Two Wrongs Don't Make a Right
by DevinBourdain
Summary: Barton is kidnapped leaving the rest of the Avengers to launch a rescue effort but things are not as they seem. The team will have to defend their archer but doing so could put them on the outs with SHIELD and the council. Warnings: language and violence. Follows No Good Deed and Road to Hell.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: The Avengers characters are not mine, just borrowed for this story.

Reviews are always welcome and appreciated

* * *

**Two Wrongs Don't Make a Right**

The sun was shining and there were nothing but blue skies as far as the eye could see. A gentle breeze offered a pleasant counter point to the growing heat of the day; all in all it was a nice day to have nothing to do. The boredom was a welcomed change from the insanity that had transpired over the last few weeks.

Clint ran over the events of his latest fiasco in his head often. The other Avengers had tried their best to reassure him that he wasn't responsible but that tune was becoming all too familiar these days. He had to laugh at the idea that his life was simple before the whole Loki incident had set off a snowball effect for the universe to focus a complete shit storm on the archer, because he never thought that working as an assassin for SHIELD was easy. However, compared to the last nine months, he realised now it'd been a cake walk.

If he was going to be completely honest with himself, he'd been nowhere near conquering his demons when the bank heist went down. That incident wasn't that traumatic by his standards, he could have lived without the injuries though; it was the parting gift from that little snafu that set off his latest round of self-loathing and doubt.

The experimental serum Keres had caused him to attack Natasha and take Tony hostage. He'd followed up those stellar actions by picking a fight with the Hulk, and trying to beat Rogers to a pulp in a desperate bid to get the Captain to put him out of his misery.

He remembered how clear everything was while he was infected despite all the voices in his head that screamed for his attention; but as the days went on the driving force behind his actions began to fade, until he was no longer certain why he had let it get the best of him in the first place. He was still leery around the team; not because he didn't trust them, rather that he didn't trust himself.

Having to see his handy work in the mirror every morning didn't help his mental state either; the bruises and stiffness served as reminders of the position he had put his teammates in. Then there was Rogers; the man felt incredibly guilty over how he'd handled Clint, he went to great lengths to push the whole team binding and better comradery thing so much that it only helped to amplify Barton's guilt. It was a vicious cycle that Hawkeye didn't see an end to any time soon.

Leaning against the car door Barton tapped his heal against the curb; he smiled slightly as he acknowledged that Stark did have nice taste in cars. Steve had mentioned needing to run a few errands and Tony had offered to let him borrow one of his prized vehicles; after several moments of debating, Stark managed to convince Steve to take the convertible and threw him the keys. It would have been fine except Tony's parting words were 'just don't press the button that launches the missiles.'

Clint had almost choked on his cereal when he saw Rogers' reaction. Despite Barton's best efforts to convince Steve that Tony was just being Tony, and there was no button that launched any missiles, he realized that he might as well give up and just offer to drive the Captain himself; a little fresh air might help clear his mind anyway.

The mental image of Steve sitting ram rod straight with his hands in his lap during the whole drive in an effort to not accidently hit a button, brought a smile to Clint's face. Hawkeye had been waiting by the car for the last twenty minutes watching the people pass by. Every once in a while he would unfold his arms and drop his hand onto the passenger's seat to reassure himself that his bow was nearby; having it across his back would draw to much attention, but he didn't want a repeat of the bank situation. Likewise Steve had even brought his shield with him and left it on the backseat.

He mentally urged Steve to hurry up whatever it was he was doing. His sixth sense was telling him something wasn't right here; at least he hoped it was his instincts and not the start of another round of crazy. The car down the street had been waiting there a little too long and the hotdog vender on the corner kept glancing in Clint's direction too frequently for his liking. _Instinct not paranoia_ he tried to reassure himself.

He dropped his hand down again and gripped his bow. He could see Rogers coming down the stairs through the glass doors of the building. Barton picked up his bow and an arrow in one hand and pulled the car keys out of his pocket with the other. He walked around the car to the driver's side and waited for a reason to snap his bow open.

Rogers had just opened the door to the street when a cry came from the alley. "Help, I can't find my mom!" The voice was tiny but it grabbed Steve's attention. He glanced quickly at Barton then took off down the alley to find the little girl in trouble.

"Shit!" cursed Clint as he watched Steve change direction away from the car. He snapped open his bow, grabbed his quiver and followed Captain America. The words 'it's a trap' circled through his head as he ran to catch up to Steve. He rounded the corner to see Steve bending over to pick up a frightened little girl and a man dressed in black coming up the other end of the alley with his gun drawn.

"Get down Cap!" yelled Clint as he lined up his shot. Rogers covered the little girl as the arrow tore through the air, embedding itself in the man who crumpled to the ground. Movement to his left caught Barton's eye and he turned to block the blow from the hotdog vendor. Someone on the roof opened fire pinning Roger's and the little girl in the alleyway. Clint elbowed the vendor in the chest and slammed his foot into the man's knee. The guy went down giving Hawkeye the second he needed to take out the man on the roof.

As soon as the arrow left his hand Barton's world exploded in pain. His muscles spasmed and his bow fell from his hand. The vendor released the trigger on his taser and Clint fell breathlessly to his knees.

Steve looked down the alley towards Clint when the gunman on the roof fell to the pavement with Hawkeye's arrow in his chest. He looked on in horror as the man pressed his taser to Clint's back and his friend crumpled to the ground. Placing the little girl safely behind a dumpster to keep her out of the line of fire, Rogers moved to help his team mate but came up short as a second man opened fire from the roof. The Captain threw himself against the wall but with his shield still sitting on the backseat of the car all he could do was look on helplessly as a second man pulled out a syringe and jabbed it into Barton's neck.

A car came to a screeching halt and the door flew open. Clint tried to fight off his attackers but his struggles became weaker and weaker until everything faded to black. The two men dumped Barton in the car and climbed in. The rain of bullets ceased as the enemy pulled out and Steve watched the car speed off down the street carrying his friend to parts unknown.


	2. Chapter 2

The little girl squirmed under Steve as she yelled, "Mom!" A woman in her mid thirties came running out of a side door and scooped up her daughter. The happy reunion was filled with tears of joy and in between sobs, Rogers was thanked many times over for saving her child.

Relieved that the girl was alright and safe with her mother, he now had a more pressing issue to contend with; who had just kidnapped his friend and where were they taking him? He ran to the street and took off in the direction the car had fled in but after a few turns and the head start their assailants had, Captain America lost the car.

Steve ran back to the car but kicked the tire in frustration as he realized that Clint had the keys. Hotwiring wasn't his specialty and he immediately began scanning the street for an alternative. The one time he desperately needed a cab there were none to be found. Reaching into his pocket he pulled out his team issued cell phone Stark had given them all; after a few moments of trial and error Steve finally managed to get the phone to dial Tony.

"Steve, you figured out how to use the cell phone, I'm kinda impressed buddy," greeted Stark.

"Stop talking for a moment Tony and listen. We have a huge problem!"

"If you crashed my car you bet we have a huge problem; I just got that one."

"Someone took Clint!"

There was a pause on the other end as Stark weighed the meaning of the words; then a tirade of questions assaulted the captain's ears "who took him? What happened? Where are you? Are you alright? How's my car?" he asked as he began punching up images of the city and trying to triangulate Rogers' position through the cell phone.

"I don't know who took him; men dressed all in black. They pinned me down in the alley; one of them drugged Barton and threw him in the back of a car full of more gorillas and took off. Clint has the keys to the car; I need a way to get back to the tower."

Stark's fingers flew over the computer access screens. Using Rogers's phone he pinpointed the place where Barton was taken, and then began pulling up security footage and traffic cameras to try and find the vehicle that had kidnapped their team mate. "I can start the car from here; drive back to the tower, I'll let everyone else know what's going on. Hopefully by the time you get back I'll have found out who our new friends are and we can free the trouble magnet canary from his latest cage."

Steve jumped slightly as the engine started; deep down he knew he was never going to get used to all the technological gadgets of the twenty-first century. However, he climbed in and swiftly started his journey back to Stark Tower and the search for Barton.

* * *

"Is there not some sort of time limit to this game?" asked Thor who had grown rather impatient waiting for Bruce to make his move.

"A good move takes time," his partner replied as he tapped his index finger on top of his knight, considering the various options.

"In the heat of battle there is not time to sit and ponder all one's options. One must know their goal and act swiftly if they are to be victorious."

"Yes, but you of all people should know the value of a well thought out battle plan." Bruce moved his knight to where Thor's queen had been and pulled the white piece off of the board. "Your queen has been taken."

The god frowned. "I assure you my queen is quite safe in Asgard."

"Your queen," repeated Bruce holding up the chess piece.

"Ah. I shall move my castle with the intent to take your king in my next turn," explained Thor as he moved the rook.

It had started out as a novel idea to teach Thor chess. Not only would it give Banner someone to play with besides Tony, who cheated by bringing in extra pieces he created, but it would create some of the much needed bonding time Steve had been insisting on lately. Of all the games Bruce was willing to play, he figured Thor's warrior side would lend itself well to a game of strategy like chess. Looking at it now, he wasn't sure if the frustration was worth it. Not only did his team mate forget the rules all the time, but he also had the patience of a child.

"No Thor, the bishop moves in diagonals, and the _rook_ moves in straight lines. You can't put that pieced there."

Stark's voice interrupted the game. "Bruce we have a situation red...a code yellow; damn it I can't remember the stupid colour – basically, the falcon's been pinched."

Thor scanned the room looking for Tony. Banner shook his head "the speakers Thor; Tony's talking via the speakers." Raising his voice so Stark could pick up the conversation he asked, "What are you ranting about Tony?"

"I need you and Thor to come down to the lab. The Captain said someone kidnapped Barton."

Bruce rolled his eyes "if this is some kind of joke..."

"No joke, honest ...we really have a situation here. Romanoff's in the kitchen, make sure you grab her on the way down."

The chess game all but forgotten, the pair quickly made their way down to the lab to learn the fate of their friend.

* * *

Rogers ran into the lab to find the rest of the Avengers already assembled. Stark and Natasha were staring at the large computer screen panels intently which were showing the footage from various sources following the car that took Barton. Thor was sitting next to Bruce who was looking up something on his tablet.

Upon hearing Steve's arrival Stark said, "Whoever they are, they're good. I don't know how they did it but the only images I can hack are delayed by fifteen minutes and what I can get is sporadic at best."

Steve looked up at the screen to see the car pull up to an abandoned airstrip. "So this happened fifteen minutes ago?"

"Yep." The single word conveyed all the frustration Stark felt at not being able to obtain better Intel that could actually allow them to try a rescue attempt. The limited visuals and time delay were preventing the team from being able to rush off anywhere and help Clint.

They watched as two heavily armed men exited the plane and moved towards the car. The men reached in and dragged Barton's limp body back to the plan. They had Clint's hands cuffed behind his back, shackles to his legs and a blindfold tied tightly across his eyes.

"Doesn't that look an awfully lot like one of SHIELD's planes?" asked Tony to no one in particular but all eyes fell on Natasha who glared at the screen and clinched her hands into tight fists. Without a word she marched towards the door.

"Where are you going?" asked Stark

"I'm going to talk to Fury," she snapped.

Banner spoke up next. "What do you want us to do?"

"You and Tony try to figure out where that airfield is and the Captain and Thor should go back to the scene and see if anyone saw anything or if they left any clues." Romanoff stormed from the room and headed for the garage.

"You all have this under control?" asked Tony as he waved his hands to indicate the tasks set forth by the Black Widow. Bruce nodded and waved Stark out. They could all tell she was going to do something rash and it would probably beneficial if she didn't do it alone.

Tony ran to catch up with Natasha and found her about to hotwire one of his cars. "whoa, whoa, whoa - keys." Tony pressed the button on the car starter and started the engine before tossing them to Natasha.

"What are you doing here Stark? Shouldn't you be helping Banner?"

"They have it under control, besides you're going to confront the big guy and that's my favorite hobby." Tony jumped over the door to settle in the passenger's seat. Romanoff raised an eyebrow but didn't reward him with her usual death glare. "Look, I wouldn't normally admit to him or the rest of the team or _you_; but despite what you, Clint and everyone else thinks, I do care about what happens to the guy. I mean we are a team, we're not very _good_ at the whole team thing, but we are a team. Let us help you."

Her only response was to step on the gas and peel out of the garage. She and Fury were going to have a few words and heaven help him if anything happened to Clint.


	3. Chapter 3

Nick Fury looked up from his report; he could hear the arguing voices of Romanoff and Hill. If his door bursting open surprised him, he didn't show it. Stark, Romanoff and Hill moved into the office still bickering over the appropriateness of the interruption. With a wave of his hand he dismissed Agent Hill despite her look of protest for their guests' inability to follow protocol.

"Agent Romanoff, Mr. Stark," Fury greeted with his usual cool detachment.

Natasha slammed her fists down onto his desk and leaned forward. "What have you done with Barton?"

The Director leaned forward in his chair to meet her glare. Her tone was doing nothing for his disposition. "Are you accusing me of something agent?"

"Men armed with SHIELD weapons grabbed Barton two hours ago and took him to an abandoned airstrip where one of our planes collected him." She threw the surveillance picture she'd had Tony pull, once they'd arrived at the base, at the Director.

He looked over the picture and had to agree with the brash conclusion his agent had come to. The situation was news to him; he did however have a theory of his own and the idea sent a cold chill down his spine. "I'm going to ignore your intrusive entrance and the insubordination, but I want a full report of what happened regarding Agent Barton's abduction." His tone shifted from authoritative to slightly more familiar. "I assure you I had nothing to do with this."

Stark and Romanoff relayed the story as they knew it, along with everything Steve had told them. When they were done Fury stood up from his desk and moved to the door "you two _stay _here." The command and tone he used left no room for argument, and the pair sat in silence waiting for Fury to return.

The man in question walked down the hall until he came to a dead end; he pushed a panel in the wall aside and punched in an access code. After the finger print scan, one section of wall slide to the side allowing him entrance into a dark room. The lights came on as he entered and the door closed behind him. He stood in front of several screens that flickered on. "I want to speak to the council," he demanded.

It took about fifteen minutes but eventually all the screens lit up to reveal the shadow figures of the council representatives.

"What is the meaning of this?" demanded the first council member.

The Director replied in a no nonsense voice, "approximately two hours ago one of my agents was abducted. He was taken to an airfield and forced onboard what suspiciously looks like one of our planes by men carrying, again what suspiciously looks like, _our _weapons. You wouldn't happen to know the whereabouts of Agent Barton, code name Hawkeye, by any chance?"

"Agent Barton has been taken into custody pending investigation," answered the third council member.

"Investigation of what?"

"Agent Barton is a threat to the security of this agency and the world at large," argued the fourth council member.

"My agent is an excellent operative and has been instrumental in saving the world as well as this agency several times. All an investigation is going to do is waste time and prove what we already know; that Agent Barton is an invaluable asset." He only employed the best, and for the council to accuse one of his top agents was insulting.

Council member number three continued, "We will inform you of our findings after we have conducted our preliminary investigation."

"Agent Barton has rights and you have no cause to treat him like a criminal."

"Agent Barton is employed by this agency and will be subjected to whatever we deem necessary to determine his status. We shouldn't have to remind _you_ Director Fury that you are also subject to the council, and are hereby ordered to take no further action in regards to this matter. We will contact you with our findings," snapped the fourth council member after which the screens went black leaving Fury to seethe by himself.

He suspected the council might try something like this. Going against their decision to nuke Manhattan had once again put the Director outside their good graces. Over the time he had been in charge of SHIELD operations there had been many times that the two forces didn't see eye to eye, and more often than not as long as the ends justified the means the council let everyone be. Nick had wondered when the time would come when the council would grow tired of looking foolish; apparently they chose now and were prepared to offer Barton up as the sacrificial lamb.

Fury knew the Avengers weren't going to take this lying down; they were prepared to fight for one another, to stand as a team. He hoped the council knew the large can of worms they'd just opened.

* * *

The shock of the ice cold water brought Clint back to consciousness coughing and sputtering; he tried to move his hand to wipe the water from his eyes, but found that his hands were securely fastened to the chair he was seated on. He leaned back in the chair testing how well he was restrained and tried to blink the dark room into focus.

Barton ran a self check of his aliments. He was nauseous and the world refused to stay still; his limbs felt heavy and his coordination was almost nonexistent. There was a slight tug on his arm and judging by the way it pulled and the feeling of something jabbing into it, he surmised that he was hooked up to an IV. That was never going to be a good thing.

Somewhere in the cell a door opened and Clint tried to focus on where the sound was coming from. The bright light flooded the room causing him to scrunch his eyes closed in a vain effort to ease the pain the sudden shift in light caused.

When his eyes finally adjusted as much as his clouded brain would allow, Clint glared at the man that was now seated in front of him. The man was dressed in a suit and had all the demeanor of someone who worked for some sort of agency. Behind the suit stood two guards dressed in uniforms that Barton could clearly identify.

"Does the Director know about this?" Clint croaked hoarsely.

"Directory Fury has been made aware of the investigation, but this action is authorized by the council," replied the suit.

"Investigation into what?" His eyelids were getting heavy again. The IV must contain a sedative of some sort. If he wasn't being drugged the situation might have spurred more alarm in Clint, but at the moment his biggest concern was trying to stay awake to determine just how bad the situation was.

"The council wishes to determine your threat level." The suit's voice was cold and robotic like he was explaining how to program a VCR, instead of informing a prisoner why they were being drugged and detained. Clint's sluggish brain provided a name to the face before him. He and Natasha had worked with Agent Mason in the past.

"Untie me and I can show you my threat level."

"Agent Barton, the council believes you are a threat to this organization and the world. You conspired with the war criminal Loki resulting in the deaths of over one hundred agents, and most recently you attempted to kill the members of the Avengers' initiative."

Clint wanted to argue, to tell the stone faced man where he could stick his investigation but the accusation was founded on truth; he had done those things. While he was sure he wasn't the threat that the council was trying to paint him as, he wasn't as sure he didn't deserve what was coming his way.

There was a knock on the cell door and one of the SHIELD clad guards opened it. A man dressed in surgical scrubs entered carrying a silver try and a folding table; he set the table up within reach of the suit and placed the tray on top. Without any discussion the man exited as quickly as he entered.

Mason reached over and grabbed the first of several syringes that were on the tray. He pressed the plunger and removed the air from the needle. All Clint could do was watch as the suit reached over and grabbed the IV line that was already feeding a drug cocktail into him and added the contents of the syringe. In seconds his vision began to fade and voices became distorted. The last thing to pierce the black veil that was gripping him was the suit declaring, "We'll start with the medical investigation."


	4. Chapter 4

Fury returned to his office to find Black Widow pacing the length of the room and Stark sitting in Fury's chair with his feet up on the desk. His entrance had both Avengers look at him in expectation; Natasha stopped her pacing and Tony even moved from Fury's seat without being ordered to.

"The council has declared Barton a threat to security and has decided to detain him for questioning," explained the Director. Natasha felt her stomach drop and nausea rise.

"What does that even mean, "Barton's a threat?" Like the way your little club believed Cap belonged on the threat list?" protested Tony. "He's one of us; he helped save the world."

"The council wants to find out for themselves." There was a miniscule pause "I was told we would be informed of their findings."

"And what if they decide they don't like what they find?" demanded Stark.

"We'll deal with the situation as it arises. Doing something brash is not going to help Barton's cause; so for the moment we will wait for the council's next move."

"Are you just going to stand there and say nothing? This is your partner we're talking about," Tony snapped as he turned his anger towards his oddly silent teammate.

Unlike Stark, Romanoff knew the weight of the situation; she had worked for all types of people and organizations and knew what they were capable of. Agents were only as good as their skills and ability not to draw attention to themselves, and Clint had drawn a lot of attention lately. The whole Loki incident had caught the council unaware, and the victory of the Avengers in the face of the council's solution had left them looking foolish; Barton was going to be their scapegoat to save face and validate their existence amongst the world's powers.

She could see the conflict in Fury. He had a very precarious position to hold; the council was still angry about him disobeying orders regarding sending the nuke to Manhattan. The Director had to think about the whole Avengers' initiative and all of the agents under his command; they all could be made to pay if they interfered with Barton's interrogation and that would cost the man his new weapon.

She wasn't sure if it was selfish or not but she didn't want to see the look in Clint's eyes if the council took out their frustration on everyone. If they rushed in and saved him before he was vindicated then her partner would never forgive himself or believe that the charges weren't true; but if they left him there, right or wrong he could be convicted despite the evidence. She also had a fairly good idea what lengths the council would be willing to go to get the answers they were after. She would act but she would wait for the most opportune time; she swallowed the lump in her throat. "We wait and see what they decide."

"So we just sit around and hope for the best?" Stark's incredulity was almost comical.

"For the moment, it seems to be the only option available to us," confirmed Fury with a deliberate nod as he stood up and left his office.

Stark looked around as if everyone had completely lost their minds apart from him. Natasha walked over and punched Tony in the arm. For lack of a better response he punched her back, causing her to hit back harder then point at the computer the Director had conveniently left on...and open to several servers Tony had not accessed yet. Following the less than subtle hint, he sat down and began uploading his usual tricks to maintain access to SHIELD's systems.

"Alright, let's go wait and see what they say," declared Stark. He would be able to use Jarvis to help him search through the information SHIELD had on the council and hopefully find something that was going to help the archer out.

* * *

Drugs could be wonderful things but at that moment they were a huge hindrance rather than a benefit. The doctors weren't barbarians, they wanted their patient comfortably numb to all the poking and prodding they were ordered to perform but Agent Mason had made absolutely sure Clint was doped up beyond all ability to move. Mason wasn't going to take any chances; he had extensive SHIELD training and knew how dangerous and cunning its operatives could be.

Clint lay on the examination table starring at the bright lights above him. The sound of his own breathing thundered in his ears while the sounds that he knew should be in the background ceased to exist. His body felt heavy but he wasn't attached to it. Knowing he should be worried, afraid even, he couldn't seem to get his limbs to respond to any command his mind was desperately trying to issue. The moments that weren't transfixed with the oddly hypnotic overhead lights were flashes that alternated between random faces with surgical masks, brief flickers of pain and the looming smug smile of Agent Mason. His last brief coherent thought was how he'd love to wipe the smirk off that gorilla's face.

* * *

It could have been the constant beep or the jackhammer destroying the resolve in his head that brought him slowly to awareness. If there was a millimetre of Clint that didn't ache fiercely he couldn't find it. Testing his range of movement in his arms revealed that his coordination was still off and he was securely restrained to the bed.

He was surrounded by four grey walls with no windows and the medical team that had been evaluating him was no longer present; to his relief neither was Agent Mason. At some point he had been dressed in a set of surgical scrubs. His first instinct was escape but as the strong arms of the drugs being pushed through his IV tightened their grip, the idea of chasing freedom came to nothing.

The quietness of the room was unsettling; he didn't want to be alone with his thoughts. Unable to move, to fight, the next thought to accompany the growing sense of panic was 'what if they found something that proved Loki could still take control.' The thought had always lingered in the back of Barton's mind as a possibility, but he'd been assured by Fury and the first group of medical experts that they couldn't find any evidence that it was possible; not that there was any way to be sure, it's not like there was a precedent for it.

The groan of the door betrayed Agent Mason's entrance. Clint turned his aching head slightly to catch a glimpse of the man who was moving a chair closer to his bed; Mason began flipping through the file folder he'd brought. He never said a word but nodded his head every so often as he turned the pages. Barton didn't even have the energy to glare at his tormentor anymore.

"Well it seems the tests came back inconclusive Agent Barton; looks like we'll have to proceed to the next round of tests." Mason's words dripped with cold indifference.

"Yeah and what are those?" croaked the archer knowing it wasn't going to be good.

"Outside stimuli."

On cue with Mason's explanation four large men entered the room and began undoing Barton's restraints. Clint knew he couldn't put up much of a fight, but he wasn't going to make it easy on them either. Fighting for purchase against the cold cement floor with his bare feet, the men dragged him down the corridor to a small room. He was forced into a chair and quickly strapped down.

Mason sauntered in behind Barton's escort, smiling arrogantly as one of the guards delivered a quick blow to the prisoner's head in an effort to cease the ineffective struggles. Slightly dazed, Clint's head lulled to the side as his captors finished tightening the last of the buckles. Several straps ran around his legs, arms and torso. A small metal chain was strung around his right arm, up his shoulder, hooked over his ears, around his chin and then down his left arm. A series of sensors were attached to monitor his vitals next.

"Let's begin," declared Mason.

Several switches were flicked and the machine next to Clint hummed to life. Mason's words were drowned out by the blood curdling scream that escaped the archer.


	5. Chapter 5

Clint's hand tapped against the wooden armrest of the chair as his muscles spasmed from the last jolt of electricity. The second the tremor stopped the guard jabbed the wand against the metal chain strung over Barton sending another wave of electricity throughout his already aching body.

"H-how's this s-suppose to prove my-my loyalty and th-threat level?" stammered Barton.

A small smile graced Mason's lips. "We want to see what kind of extreme circumstances might reinitiate Loki's control."

"Y-you're en-enjoying this-s."

"I always enjoy it when justice is served Barton."

Time had little meaning anymore; all that mattered was getting from one pain filled moment to the next small respite between shocks. It wasn't the first time Clint had found himself in a situation like this; his life with SHIELD had provided the enemy with many opportunities to strap him down and electrocute him amongst many other, equally horrible, acts. The difference between this and all the other times was this was his own people doing it for reasons that were rather vague. There was nothing concrete that Mason wanted, nothing Clint could say or do that would end his torment; it would simply continue until Mason grew tired.

The archer's emotions were a jumble long before the council decided to make their move. The guilt he felt over the things he did under Loki's control had been eating him up, slowly and silently, and no one seemed to notice him drowning right in front of them; not even the Avengers. That wasn't the worst fact in the world because, just like a drowning man, Clint knew he would inadvertently take down anyone that tried to help him, so he did his best to hide his inner turmoil from anyone that might feel the urge to help. There were no words that he possessed that would erase the horrors he had been party to, or the evil he would have done had Romanoff not stopped him.

Most nights he wished that Natasha had been kinder and just ended things, instead of granting his freedom from the blue prison that Loki had resurrected in his mind. Perhaps that was his punishment; to have to live every day with the knowledge of what he did, what he'd been going to do. It was this belief the fueled the resolve that this action being taken against him now was somehow just and deserved.

Clint had failed to stop Loki in New Mexico, failed to resist the god's control, failed to prevent Pepper from being in that horrible situation at the bank; and his most recent failure of trying to kill Stark, Steve and Natasha all screamed that he was a black cloud of death and destruction to his friends. Simply put, he was a failure – completely and utterly, 100%; no excuses. He deserved to be punished, and almost felt a sense of relief when he'd woken up to find the council had sanctioned action against him.

Another part of Clint was terrified, not at the treatment he was receiving or what tortures might lay ahead, but of what they could find. What if Loki could still control him? What if all it took was a stressful situation or a certain word and he became the mindless slave again; what if he tried to finish what he started with Natasha?

Despite Nick Fury's rough exterior and a steadfast belief that good must be upheld at all costs, Clint felt the Director had been overly lenient after Manhattan. Somehow he had expected more of a better guarantee that Loki could not reclaim him as his own. His whole betrayal of SHIELD had been dismissed rather anticlimactically. The Director had told Clint that he wasn't to blame and that no one could punish him more than the archer could ever punish himself, as undeserved as it would be.

Anger rose in Clint; Natasha had kept him alive and so had Fury. Couldn't they see the threat he was to his friends? Even after fighting alongside the Avengers, he had put them in danger. Why did they all still want to keep him round? Agent Mason was a certifiable ass, but at least when all was said and done and the council's trials and tests were complete he would put Clint out of his misery; do what the archer and the Avengers could not do - keep the world safe from Hawkeye.

The sense of relief that replaced the anger lasted but mere moments as a final jolt of electricity tipped the scales from consciousness to nothingness and Clint passed out.

Agent Mason watched the prisoner go slack "is he still alive?" he asked with only mild interest.

The doctor that had been lurking by the door shuffled forward and checked Barton's vitals on the computer; a small nod confirmed the archer was still with them.

"On to phase three then." At the flick of his wrist, the four guards moved forward to untie the prisoner and carry him to their next room of 'fun'. Mason waited behind as the doctor handed over a file.

"There is no trace of Keres in his blood; the initial report filed by Dr. Banner was correct. There is also no indication that the agent is under any kind of outside control," reported the physician.

"That's very unfortunate," replied Mason, "I was assured that this would work."

"It's all been theoretical at this point. This is the first time we've had a subject."

"We need this to work; take another blood sample and run more tests." Mason took the folder and walked out of the room with an irritated sigh; he wasn't looking forward to reporting these recent findings.

* * *

"You know I would expect this kind of behaviour out of the Hulk but not you. Well in light of recent events maybe out of Stars and Stripes, but not you Thor" stated Tony as he watched the god of thunder continue to smash the couch in half. Steve was sitting at the bar beside the billionaire who conveniently missed the glare when referencing Roger's complete loss of control during the Keres situation.

Rogers scoffed. "Really? You don't expect this out of Thor?"

"Ok, I do kind of expect it out of the guy but I always pictured him pummelling _someone_ and not my ten thousand dollar couch!"

The tension and frustration had built up so much for the Nordic god in the last few days since Clint had been taken that most of Stark Tower looked like a war zone. Unable to express his displeasure any other way that was equally as satisfying as smashing in the faces of the council members, Thor had been forced to turn that energy on various pieces of Stark's furniture.

"Seriously, Thor, stop destroying my shit," snapped Tony as the god of thunder continued his rampage undeterred by Iron Man's earlier statement.

"Tony," cautioned Pepper. She had watched them all start to self destruct with the absence of the archer and one was actually no better than the other; they simply had different ways of venting. Where was a bad guy when you needed one? She would have to agree that the tower was taking a beating ; but if they didn't vent, the remaining Avengers were beyond difficult to deal with or even control. "You've drank enough to put a liquor store to shame these last few days. Besides he's not hurting anyone, nor is he destroying anything that can't be replaced."

"Yeah Stark, the answers aren't at the bottom of that bottle," retorted Rogers. His normally take it all on the chin attitude had disappeared behind a moody, irritated demeanour; one reminiscent of Tony on his off days.

Stark glared at Steve and held up a nearly empty bottle. "I know the answers aren't at the bottom of this." He slammed back the remaining drops and grabbed a new one. "That's why I have to look in another."

Pepper rolled her eyes. The first day after Barton was taken, the team had rallied together to try and find some loophole to rescue the archer from the council's clutches. Day two, their spirits had dipped slightly and they moved on from loopholes to different cases and situations similar to Barton's, to find procedures and possible situation outcomes. Day three had been fraught with squabbles, fraying tempers and trying to find blackmail material. Day four they began to pull away from one another; and today, day five, they'd been reduced to smashing furniture and drinking copious amounts of alcohol.

Bruce had locked himself away in his room and refused to come out for fear that his only way to vent would be to release the beast. Natasha had headed back to the helicarrier on day two and remained there checking in twice a day to see if the team found anything useful. Pepper almost felt sorry for the council members. If they returned Clint in anything less than pristine condition, heaven help them; for the Avengers would not be pleased.

* * *

The only light in the room came from the twelve television screens that were displaying various security camera angles. She knew the agent in charge of security was aware she had entered but neither said a word to break the silence.

After a few moments of watching their fellow agents move around the helicarrier, Natasha spoke. "I want the name of the agent that flew the nuke into Manhattan."

"You know I can't give you that information Romanoff. That mission was sanctioned by the council and thus the agent was disciplined by the council," replied Agent Gracen.

"We both know there were no disciplinary actions taken; besides I'm not here for some sort of payback for almost killing millions because the council got cold feet. I'm simply looking for information that the agent in question can provide."

Gracen raised an eyebrow but didn't take his eyes off of his screens. "And what if you don't get your way; you're going to kick my ass right?"

Her voice was eerily calm. "I'm not going to lay a finger on you. You're family, friends, neighbours, dry cleaner's family pets... they won't be so lucky."

"Asking nicely works too you know," said the head of security as he slipped a piece of paper towards Romanoff.

She picked up the paper and smiled. Gracen was always reasonable and willing to help out Barton; she didn't know what her partner had done to endear himself to Gracen, but right now she was thankful.

"Honestly I thought you would have been here two days ago for that," said Gracen; but when he turned around for Natasha's reply, she was gone.


	6. Chapter 6

Clint blinked a few times to try and get his eyes to focus; the last thing he recalled was being electrocuted, a fact that his body was reminding him of right now. There was also a cold emptiness that had gripped him since his stint in medical.

Losing track of time completely meant he had no idea the day let alone the time; so there was nothing to do but wait for either the conclusion of Mason's 'treatment', or some ill-conceived but loyalty driven jail break from the Avengers. The archer really hoped the latter would never come. He wasn't giving up because he would never allow himself to; but he was realistic about what was going to happen to him when this was done, about what he felt _should _happen.

He didn't have to wait long to find out what Agent Mason had planned for the next round. "Good morning Agent Barton. I trust you are feeling better this morning?"

Barton managed to pull together enough spit to lob a glob towards Mason's feet. The agent glanced down briefly and continued with his impassionate dialog.

"Our findings are still inconclusive which means we will have to move on to phase three; unless you would like to spare us all a lot of trouble and just confess to your crimes."

Ignoring the pain and protest from his aching muscles, Clint lifted his head to look Mason dead in the eyes. "Confess?"

"Yes. Confess to conspiring with the war criminal Loki. Confess to performance negligence in regards to your ineffectiveness during the bank robbery fiasco that required a full SHIELD team to respond as well as the Avengers, and caused the loss of one of the vials of the Keres serum. Confess to the attempted murders of Anthony Stark, Captain Steve Rogers and Agent Natasha Romanoff and anything else that your handler Agent Coulson has managed to keep from official records during your career."

Clint glared at the ground as Mason went over his laundry list of defects from the last few months. Ironically he might've been able to persuade the archer to agree to the accusations had he not brought Coulson's name into it; that was a major mistake. Barton would have negotiated for something that didn't sound like treason, like he hadn't betrayed everything he'd stood for; but at the thought of Coulson's name being dragged through the mud simply because he'd been Clint's handler, was where a spark of fight flared up in Hawkeye.

He would never confess to treason because at the end of the day all Clint had was his name; a name that Phil had ensured meant something. Clint wouldn't lose his honor, and he certainly wouldn't let the monkey in the suit before him rob Coulson of his. He might not have been able to protect his friend from Loki, but he could damn well keep his memory intact.

"I'll tell you where you can stick your confession."

"That's unfortunate; you could have made this easy on yourself."

"We still can make it easy; you and me can settle this."

"Oh Barton, this isn't a grudge match" Mason bestowed the younger man before him with a patronising smile "I have the council on my side and you have a list of violations. More importantly, I'm not going to sink to your level."

"I don't know that there is a level lower than council errand boy."

Mason's well trained group wasted no time in taking their positions. The largest of the guards began cracking his knuckles as he loomed over the injured and restrained prisoner, while the doctor jab yet another syringe into Clint's neck.

A familiar feeling washed over Barton; he took a deep breath and mentally prepared himself for what was to come. SHIELD conducted extensive training with truth serums. Clint was pretty sure he could hold off its affects for a while, but his already weakened condition and the prospect of becoming a punching bag was a little intimidating. Truth serum had a way of turning you all around, and while Clint had been nothing but honest about the events Mason mentioned, the drug could muddle him up enough for Mason to get his confession. _You've survived worse_ he thought but after the first punch landed square on his jaw snapping his head back, he had trouble actually remembering any of it.

* * *

The only parts of Clint that were warm were the small patches of skin covered by fresh blood; the coldness of the room would have caused him to shiver if the bindings weren't so tight. A large bruise was beginning to dominate his face, but the true extent of his injuries were hidden under the splatters of blood that covered him. Red drool spilled over his split lip and expanded the pool that formed at Clint's feet. He could tell from the number of blows and the frequency that there was only one guard hitting him, but his vision was suggesting that there was three.

Whatever drug concoction they had slipped him was definitely lower grade; Mason was obviously depending on physical influence rather than chemical. _Amateur_ thought Clint as he took another blow to the stomach. He'd been beaten far worse by far better men than this goon. Mason's demeanor was getting more frustrated with every refusal on Clint's part to confess to treason; spurring Barton on in his defiance. Each punch was becoming weaker and weaker as the guard tired; it was just a matter of time. _You've survived worse_ became his mantra.

* * *

Leaning his head against the cold brick wall of his cell he tried to take advantage of his momentary respite from his interrogation, and get some much needed and longed for sleep. However, the hard floor only made him painfully aware of every single bruise and cut that littered his body; he could only hope that exhaustion got the better of him and blotted out the pain enough for him to pass out at least.

It had been a difficult week full of beatings and psychological torture. The first day consisted of his medical evaluation which comprised of Barton being used as a pin cushion for any and all tests the council could dream up, to determine if Loki could still possibly hold any control over the agent. That had left him feeling empty and detached.

Mason quickly moved things to electrocution, beatings, water tortures, sleep deprivation and drugs. He could imagine the condition he was in based on the blood crusted all over the black and blue parts of his body he could see. His arm looked like a pin cushion from the ridiculous amounts of blood samples they kept taking. He also couldn't shake the weird coldness that had gripped him since medical got their hands on him.

The truth serum and hallucinogens gave Mason the opportunity to work the psychological angle. Clint had to laugh; nothing Mason told him wasn't anything he hadn't been telling himself for the last year. It had only confirmed the archer's beliefs about himself, and when he was brought before the council he would take whatever they handed out. He still wasn't going to confess to treason but he would submit to their sentence; it would be his last and truest act to protect the Avengers, but the refusal of treason was for himself and Coulson.

The cell door slammed open and the four guards entered the room. Clint painstakingly made it to his feet; there was no need to fight anymore, he would go willingly. His arms were wrenched behind him and bound with the harsh metal bite of handcuffs. He didn't so much walk out of the dark cell as he was dragged between the two harbingers of death.

The group entered a large room which had a video camera and five computer screens. Barton was deposited in the wooden chair in front of the video camera. The screens suddenly flickered to life displaying the four council members and Director Fury.

"Director Fury, Agent Clint Barton," began council member two, "we are prepared to deliver our findings in regards to Barton's status."


	7. Chapter 7

Tony's phone beeped alerting him and Romanoff that the council was currently contacting the Director. He hit the button on the consol he was at and tapped into the private conversation being held down the hall.

The team had spent all week going over the information Stark was slowly pulling about the council. He had to give them credit, they weren't making it easy for him, but he did love a challenge. So far they had found away to override the system and break into Fury's secret meeting room as well as council protocols for different scenarios. The most interesting information was the different missions authorized by the council, and the way the votes fell in regards to authorizing the missions. If they did some more digging they might be able to find some personal information on a few members that they could use to their advantage.

The week had been filled with anger, stress and dread. They were all worried about what their teammate was going through alone, because Fury had told them to hold off and wait to see if they needed to make a move. The fact that their friend was being tortured while they just waited, helpless against it, had raised the tension around Stark Tower and caused a few fights amongst the Avengers. All of their futures were riding on this; the council was determining Clint's fate, and if they condemned him the team knew they would do whatever it took to free him. That of course meant making themselves enemies to the council and possibly SHIELD. Their lives as they knew them would change drastically, and the team would most likely be forced to run if they weren't drawn into a full on blood bath.

Romanoff had gone back to the Helicarrier on day two and did her own investigating. After obtaining the name of the agent that had overrode Fury's orders and carried out the council's plans to launch the nuke, she had what witnesses would later refer to as a 'friendly' conversation; after all, the agent would eventually be able to walk again. The operative had divulged that the council was expecting a decision at the end of the week, and Stark had left the tower to join Natasha in waiting for that meeting. She still hadn't been able to find out where they were holding Clint, but they were getting closer; they just needed more time. Fortunately or unfortunately the council had come to their conclusion.

The pair listened with bated breath for the council to hand down their verdict. They knew Barton was innocent of any ridiculous charges or ideas they could throw at him, but sadly they didn't seem to get the option to vote.

Dread clutched at Romanoff's very being as she listened to the conversation move in a distinctly horrible direction. Her breathing started to speed up as her brain jumped to the conclusion her heart had already saw coming a week ago. Before the final condemning words rolled off of the council member's lips, Stark was already storming out and towards the meeting room; the Black Widow numbly following him.

The door flew open and Fury turned to look at the intruders; council member four stopped midsentence at the presence of Stark and Natasha.

"You are not authorized to be here," shouted the first council member.

Tony glanced over the monitors taking in the shadow clad people that decided they had the right to judge his friend. He lost his train of thought as he eyed the last monitor which displayed a dishevelled and beaten down archer. Clint was strapped down to a chair with two guards standing on either side of him. The man had the same look that Stark had seen just before he picked his fight with Steve in an attempt to take himself out to protect the team.

Natasha was speechless; she kept her eyes glued on her partner, cataloguing every scratch, bruise and mark. The sting of betrayal was hard to swallow; this was their own people that had a misguided notion he was a threat and not the hero she knew that he was. She knew to expect what she saw, but actually seeing him that way was so much worse than what she had envisioned. All the times in her SHIELD life that she had been quick to act, to stand up for right and punish those that sought to hurt the innocent, she was unable to move as she saw the haunted, defeated look in Clint's eyes. He had given up on himself and agreed with whatever the council had decided.

Clint watched on the monitor as his teammates stormed into the briefing room. He had accepted his fate and on some level agreed with what the council was about to decree, but it seemed his friends were determined to foolishly put themselves in precarious positions to defend him even though he didn't deserve it.

"Innocent people should have someone stand up for them; we're here to stand up for Hawkeye. You can thank me for stopping you from making a grievous error. I'm personally partial to fancy sports cars with big red bows instead of thank-you cards."

Council member number four declared, "Agent Barton is a threat and needs to be dealt with."

"No." It wasn't the usual rambling that Stark went on but the one word said what all the other words in the world couldn't offer with the same steadfast belief and force.

"No?" repeated one of the members of the council.

"Did that not translate? Romanoff translate that in Russian for the nice people."

"It is the job of this agency to remove possible threats to the safety and security of the people."

"If you want to talk threats, I'm a bigger threat."

The words sent a shock wave of alarm through Barton. Why couldn't they see that he wasn't worth it? Clint couldn't let them do this. "Tony don't!"

Ignoring Hawkeye's protests, Stark continued, "I mean I'm the one that put your precious nuke through the portal and ruined your plans to level Manhattan."

"A fact that we have not forgotten. The Avengers will stand down now and return to Stark Tower while we deal with this," informed the second council member.

"Well, see no. The Avengers, well, we're kind of a team and that includes the caged quail there, so if you want us to stand down then I suggest you give us Barton and we call it a day."

The council warned, "We will not hesitate to remove you from there by any force we deem necessary."

Helpless to do anything Clint growled, "Tony god damn it, stop now!"

A plan started to form in the fourth council member's brain. "Alright, we'll hold an inquiry into Agent Barton. If you can convince the council that he is not a threat, he will be released."

"If we can't?" asked Natasha warily as she found her voice. She didn't see this working out the way they would want and really the only decision left was could she turn her back on everything she had accomplished and go against the ideals that now governed her life to go against SHIELD?

The shadowy figure continued, "Stark will surrender the Iron Man technology and be remanded into our custody along with Bruce Banner and Steve Rogers. Agent Barton will be scheduled for execution. We'll give you a moment to decide." The proposal was punctuated by the council members' screens going black.

Clint felt his stomach drop. There was no defence they could build that was going to absolve him of his wrong doings and the Avengers were going to pay for that. "Absolutely not Stark. Take Natasha and walk away." He turned his eyes to where Fury was pictured on his screen pleading, "Don't let them do this Director."

"Actually since we have to face the consequences I don't think he gets a vote Clint," said Tony.

"Do you think you can convince them?" asked Fury. He had spent all week trying to come up with plans that would free his agent without throwing anyone else in front of the council. He would support the Avengers in any way he could, but he did have the future of the other men and women under his command to consider as well.

Stark glanced at Romanoff looking for support. As it stood now the council was planning on locking up Hawkeye and throwing away the key but if they took this chance they stood to make it so much worse if they failed. Natasha weighed the options carefully, blocking out her partner's string of protests; at the very least it could buy them some extra time to try and locate Clint to break him out. She gave a consenting nod.

The monitors flickered to life and Fury gestured for Stark to lead the show.

"What have you decided?" questioned the darkened figures.

"How exactly is this going to work?" Tony wanted to see how much wiggle room they were going to get.

"We will hold a trial in which you can present your argument. We will then deliberate and pass judgement. Should we find against you, you will be reprimanded immediately and Agent Barton's execution will swiftly follow."

"Stark don't do this, _please!"_ It pained them to hear Clint beg, but it hurt more to hear that the man that had fought beside them didn't feel he was worth the same effort that he gave them.

Tony held up a hand to silence his desperate friend. "Barton, it's time to let someone else be the hero for the moment. I'm not going to speak for anyone else so Banner and Rogers are not part of this agreement. In the miniscule chance that we should fail to demonstrate that Agent Barton is nothing short of the superhero we all know him to be, then you can have me."

A look of surprise flashed across Natasha's face and, if she didn't know better, she might have claimed that she noticed it on Fury as well. Of all the people she could imagining throwing themselves to the wolves for Barton, Stark was nowhere near the top of the list; in fact, he didn't even make the list. The attempts at team bonding must have been paying off because she had just witnessed Tony Stark put someone else first, for the second time.

Panic gripped Clint's chest and he was finding it hard to breath. He wasn't there to physically push them out of the room, but there had to be something he could do to save them from him. He closed his eyes and realized the only option available to him. He had to give up the one thing that he was still desperately clinging to, even if the prospect of it gutted him inside. Coulson had believed in the Avengers, and Barton desperately prayed he could forgive him for this if it saved the dream the agent had steadfastly believed in. "I confess to treason!" shouted Barton, "I helped the war criminal Loki, I compromised the safety of the Avengers, I'll agree to whatever you want; just stop this now!"

Not to be out done, Tony shouted louder, "I'll do it."

The council ignored their prisoner. "We'll convene in one day. You have twenty-four hours to put together your case, at which time you will return here and be taken to an undisclosed location where you can confer with Agent Barton and then present your case." All of the screens went black. Fury, Stark and Romanoff looked at each other.

"I hope you have a plan!" said Natasha.


	8. Chapter 8

Steve, Bruce and Thor leapt to their feet as Tony strode into the meeting room at Stark tower. They could tell by the look on Iron Man's face that it wasn't good news.

"Well, what happened?" asked Steve.

Stark moved towards the cabinet and pulled out a bottle of scotch and a glass. After downing that glass, he poured himself another and moved to the table where the rest of the team was eagerly awaiting an answer. "The council has granted us twenty-four hours to put together a case that proves Hawkeye isn't a threat. If we're successful then we get our bird back; if we fail, then they get me, the Iron Man suit and they execute Barton."

Thor voiced his concern. "Can they do this?"

"They are the head of the super secret spy club; I think they can do whatever the hell they want," replied Tony.

"So what are we going to do if this doesn't work?" asked Bruce.

Rogers slammed his fists on the table. "We can't let them do this."

"Well, we all know I have a problem with authority. I won't have any problem sticking it to them," proposed Stark.

"You mean for us to go against the council?" asked Thor.

"I mean that if we don't get the verdict we're after, we might have to take matters into our own hands."

"That would put us on the run from SHILED and every other organization they have a hand in. There wouldn't be anywhere for us to hide," responded Banner.

Iron Man countered, "I'm sure there are some rocks they haven't looked under."

"What about Natasha?" asked Bruce.

"I think she'd side with us as far as Barton is concerned," Steve hypothesized.

"She's an agent first. Let's not put her in that position yet. If it comes down to it and we're making our getaway, we ask her to come; until then we leave her out of these plans and we won't have to find out if her duty comes before us." Tony was certain that Natasha would side with them; but there was always that doubt that maybe SHIELD ranked higher than they did. She was very good at supporting the company line.

"Speaking of Natasha where is she?" asked Banner.

"Her and Fury are putting together a list of Clint's greatest SHIELD moments that might help our cause. You're all going to stay aboard the helicarrier during this gross miscarriage of justice, while I get to go and spend some quality time with Mr. Self-sacrifice." Tony elaborated to rid Thor of his confused expression "he's willing to throw himself to the wolves, if it means nothing happens to us. He stood there and claimed he was a traitor in an attempt to stop these proceedings. The fact that the council didn't shut things down right there tells me they're after more than declaring Barton the enemy. They want us all under their complete control."

Bruce pulled off his glasses and cleaned them with his shirt. "Meaning that no matter what evidence we throw at them they will find Clint guilty to get you and then us."

"Give the man a cookie!" said Stark.

"There are cookies now?" asked Thor who was ignored by the rest of the team.

Steve proposed, "We need a way to track where they take you Stark; that way we can break both of you out."

"Already have an idea about that Cap. I'm going to insert a tracking device in my arc reactor. It should mask it from any of their anti tracking devices; and if they do search me, they're not going to be looking there."

"The only way any of us get to keep our current lives would be to get the council to vote our way; to do that we're going to have to have something on them," inserted Banner.

"Blackmail, Bruce? I didn't know you had it in you," quiped Tony.

"Yeah well, we actually have a chance to do some good here, and if they force us to run and hide under a rock then our chance to actually help people diminishes."

"Right, so I'll go defend Robin Hood and try and to knock some sense into him, while you three coordinate with Romanoff and try and dig up some dirt on the council; if that doesn't work you get to play the white knights and rescue me and the bird - preferably before they cook his goose."

Everyone nodded in accordance with Iron Man's plan.

* * *

After hammering out as many details of their back up plan as possible, the team called it a night though none of them expected to get any sleep. Each needed some time to weigh the situation and make peace with the possible outcomes. This would be the biggest test of their teamwork yet, and each needed to make sure they were willing to see it through to the end.

Thor sat up on the roof in the spot he noticed Hawkeye had claimed as his own. He watched the people come and go on the street; busy with their lives completely unaware of the atrocity that was taking place. He felt the weight of Mjolnir in his hand; recalled the many battles it had help him emerge the victor. If the other Avengers were right, he would soon have to raise it again against the people of this world; the very people he'd sworn to protect.

He thought about Jane and what it would mean if he never saw her again. Going to war against the council would make him an enemy of this world and force him to leave the people he had grown to care for behind. The parting words at the Avengers' meeting had been to meet in the living room at seven am; if someone didn't show they would understand. Being on the run from SHIELD and the council wasn't something to be taken lightly, and they all had something to lose. They had all agreed they would be there, but even a blind person could see the traces of doubt that lingered amongst them.

There was also Loki's part in all of this to consider. His brother had attacked this world to deliver a blow to Thor, and Barton had had the misfortune of ending up a pawn in Loki's bid for vengeance. That was the start of the archer's troubles that led him to face the council.

It should be the disgraced god who faced their wrath and not his teammate; maybe it should be Thor himself for not seeing his brother for who he really was. He felt he owed it to Hawkeye to stand up for the man who believed he should not stand up for himself. Despite everything Loki did, Barton never held it against Thor for a moment and constantly brushed off the god's apologies for his brother's actions. Could Thor now turn his back on Clint for his selfish desire to keep Jane in his life, or would he risk losing the fair maiden for the call of war?

The god had never turned away from battle before but he had never had Jane and so much to lose either. He let out a sigh, could he abandon a warrior like Barton for the sake of personal reasons. His teammate was an honorable man and deserved Thor's respect and loyalty but... there was that but that stopped him from embracing their plan fully.

* * *

Steve rolled over again and punched his pillow; after the tenth time he gave up on pretending to sleep and wandered to the kitchen. He sat at the table in the dark and thought about all the people he'd left behind. He didn't like losing people and he wasn't about to add Clint's name to the list, but saving Barton would put the whole team in danger and send them all into hiding. That was assuming his plan was successful in freeing Stark and Barton. He had to consider everyone's lives, and there was a lot of room for error. If they did run could he keep them all safe, all of the time?

Steve's fight with Clint replayed in his head. He'd been willing to sacrifice Barton once; he should do it again, but would he? More importantly _could_ he? All the things he'd been trained to do would be wasted; there would no longer be a team of superheroes to defend the innocent.

There was a part of him that desperately wanted to cling to the idea that the truth would come out and justice would prevail, that there still was right in the world. The future he had awakened in was bleak and corrupt; but then there were the Avengers, small rays of hope amongst the gloom. Broken people that rose together to save the world despite themselves; now one of their own needed to be saved. Rogers frowned as he realized Clint not only needed to be saved from the council, but from himself as well.

The archer's plan during the Keres incident had shaken Steve to his core. The man was willing to do anything to save the team and, according to Tony's recount of his meeting earlier, Barton was still willing to give every last piece of himself to protect them; even his honour. He had lectured Tony on not having that quality when they had first met, and yet he had failed to see it in Hawkeye. The Captain vowed that he would do everything in his power to make himself worthy of that kind of faith and loyalty from his friends.

The problem was, what was he, if he wasn't Captain America? How could he do good if they were running from the very people that gave them the opportunity to be heroes? The soldier part of him screamed that one person wasn't worth the millions that he could save as an Avenger working for SHIELD; but if he was so quick to sacrifice one person, was _any _of it really worth it. Wasn't he supposed to stand up for the one person?

* * *

Bruce stared at the computer screen unable to focus on his research. He was torn, and not just between himself and the other guy. Clint was an Avenger and they couldn't just leave him where he was, but what would become of them if they went against the council?

He never would have chosen the superhero thing for himself; never thought the hulk would be capable of helping in any way, but here with the team he had found a use for the rage monster that lurked just below the surface. To run now would mean an escape back into a world of fear; fear for the innocents that would be put in harm's way, fear for the hulk taking his frustration out on the team and fear for losing the purpose he now had a tenuous grasp on.

* * *

Tony sat on the end of the bed looking at nothing. Pepper was sitting next to him with her arms draped over his shoulders. He didn't regret accepting the chance to try and defend Barton, but it was another example of his impulsive decision making. His choices didn't just affect him; he couldn't bring himself to look at Pepper whose fate was sealed along with his. What ever happened affected her too, especially if it went wrong. She would be a target just like the rest of them, and he couldn't stand the fact that he had once again put her in danger.

Someone had to stand up for Hawkeye, and Tony owed him big time for looking after Pepper. He was the logical choice what with his fast mouth and ability to talk people into things. Thor would have just threatened, Bruce would have tried simple logic, Rogers would have appealed to their humanity and sense of patriotism and Natasha...well they never would have found all the bodies. No, Tony was their best chance to pull this rabbit out of the hat at least somewhat legitimately; they could feed the council to Romanoff later. He could sell anything to anyone; surely he could sell the innocence of an innocent man?

"Pepper..." Started Stark.

"You don't need to apologise."

"Yes I... wait how did you know I was going to apologise? What do you think I have to apologise for?"

"I know you Tony Stark, better than you know yourself; and you're doing the right thing. I want you to know how proud I am of you" she emphasized her point with a kiss. "You are capable of amazing things, and what you're willing to do for Clint just proves that. No matter what you decide tomorrow, I'll stand by you; but you don't need to worry about me."

"You're amazing you know that?"

"Yep, pretty sure it was in our last company newsletter."

* * *

The grey walls were quickly becoming a prison that night. Natasha would never have said she was claustrophobic, but the room seemed to be closing in on her. Her room on the helicarrier, her bed and SHIELD issued sheets, the fact that she was lying there alone amongst hundreds of people that made up the organization she had decided to devote her life to, was becoming horribly oppressive. This is what she had decided she wanted. Working for SHIELD allowed her to make up for all the things from her past that haunted her present. To choose to save her partner meant she would turn her back on everything she had come to believe in, all the good in her life. But she would have had none of that without Clint.

The Black Widow had many debts to pay. She had even told Loki that she owed Barton a debt; and while it had been part of her strategy, it was also true. But was that one debt worth all the others that she still owed? As an agent she had an avenue to make amends for everything. Rescuing Clint wouldn't even begin to touch what she owed him, she didn't think she could ever repay him; but running with her partner would only give her a chance to put a tiny dent in the debt to him whereas staying gave her a shot at repaying all the others she owed.

For the first time in her life she doubted if she was strong enough to make that decision. SHIELD had become a safety net. If whatever she and Barton shared fell through, there was always her job. If they ran, she would only have Clint and what if that didn't work; what if it wasn't enough?

She knew the team was planning something beyond a defense. She had seen it in Stark's face before he left, and she knew why he hadn't said anything to her about it. Romanoff hated it when people kept things from her, but part of her appreciated the gesture. They knew she was a part of SHIELD and what would happen if she joined them to rescue Clint; they had decided to leave the decision in her hands. The only other person that ever gave her that consideration was Clint.

With everything that Romanoff believed she owed Barton, it should have been an easy choice. But, as much as she hated to admit it, she was scared.

* * *

The chains rattled as Clint moved his hand to wipe the sweat from his face. He tried to think of something positive so he could sleep, but every time he closed his eyes he could see his teammates' faces. He could see his friends locked away never again to see the light of day because the council had deemed them as rogue threats, and it was all his fault. Why couldn't they see what he knew to be true, what Loki and the Tesseract had shown him? At least Stark had refused to bring Banner and Rogers into this, and Thor would be safe because the council wouldn't want to start anything with Asguard. He desperately hoped Natasha would see reason and oblige her duty to SHIELD, while Fury would always do the right thing and leave Barton to his fate.

The only thing left to do was convince Stark not to represent him. Clint had confessed to treason in a bid to stop Tony form being sucked into the middle of everything. That had been the last thing he had been clinging to; the self delusion that he was absolvable of his sins, but saying it out loud, the way the council had wanted just made them all the more real and undeniable. He had nothing left; the admission had condemned everything he had ever done and when they killed him, he would only be remembered for all the wrongs and none of the rights.

He made a silent apology to Coulson for not being strong enough to protect his name. Every time Clint had messed up, it had been Coulson that pushed him forward. The man had made him want to be a better agent and, more importantly, a better man. Barton never figured out why Phil had taken a personal interest in him, but he was eternally grateful SHIELD's top agent had. He would never be able to make up for his recent betrayal, but saving the team that Coulson had had faith in would be the best way to start.

"Just one more thing to do," he whispered into the night of his cold, lonely cell. He closed his eyes and waited for the nightmares. No one was as good at punishing him as he was.


	9. Chapter 9

The sun peaked over the city skyline and illuminated an empty rooftop; the kitchen was like a ghost town as was the lab. Pepper and Tony's bed had remained un-slept in. It was six thirty and Stark Tower was oddly quiet considering the undertaking that was supposed to be getting underway.

Steve gave a respectful nod to Thor who was already waiting in the living room. They had all said they would understand if any of them couldn't go through with this plan, but the fact that Steve and Thor were standing in the living room together proved that they might just be good at the whole team thing after all.

"Are we ready for this kids?" asked Tony as he strode into the living room with his espresso in hand. The others eyed his coffee wondering when Stark had gone out on a coffee run.

"We're really going to do this?" asked Bruce as he joined the team.

"Looks like operation Maltese falcon is in effect," declared Stark.

"We all know what we have to do?" asked Rogers.

The group nodded and Iron Man glanced at his watch; it was time to get the show on the road.

"Good luck," called Banner as Tony left to put his suit on and fly to the helicarrier to meet his surreptitious ride.

* * *

Iron Man touched down on the deck of the helicarrier where Romanoff was waiting. She was good at hiding her feelings but their quick interaction betrayed her frustration.

"Here," she said as she placed a microchip in Stark's hand. Tony stood there silent as she then turned and stormed away to parts unknown.

The chip was small but its weight was enormous. If anything was going to exonerate their friend and team mate it was on the tiny device. Tony plugged it into his suit and had Jarvis download the data. Making his way to the command deck, he wanted to have a final word with Fury.

The Director greeted Tony as he entered the room and signaled him to follow. The pair walked down to the hanger deck in silence. The flight crew was preparing the quinjet and Fury put his hand on Tony's shoulder to stop him a few feet from the jet. He glared a serious look at the Avenger.

"Do you think you can do it?"

"We both know he doesn't deserve this Fury. I honestly don't know if highlighting his virtues is going to sway these people, but if anyone can we both know it's me," offered Stark. He knew the rest of the team were still holding out hope that this was going to be settled with discussion, but Tony had known betrayal first hand. The things people were willing to do to come out on top never ceased to amaze him and he doubted if anyone of those shadowy figures that claimed to know what was best for the universe would lose a moment of sleep or shed a single tear when they condemned a hero to death in an attempt at nothing more than saving face. The lie however seemed to offer hope to Barton's supporters so he continued to tell it.

"Do whatever it takes Stark; and I mean _whatever_ it takes."

"If I didn't know better Nick, I'd say you have a soft spot."

"You don't know better."

"Right." The silence conveyed everything they needed to know and Tony was glad because they might need what the Director was offering when everything went to shit. "Here I go."

Dismantling his suit Tony it folded into a carrying case. He walked aboard the quinjet choosing a seat in the back. The co-pilot approached and nervously cleared his throat; Tony cocked his head to the side and looked at the anxious young man.

"Excuse me sir but the council insisted you put this on." The co-pilot reached out and offered Stark a black hood.

He glanced at the hood then back at the agent. "Can we _get_ any more clichéd?" Seeing the rather insistent look on the man's face, Tony begrudgingly grabbed the hood and put it on. Barton was going to owe him so much when this was all over.

The journey had Stark changing planes three times and cars twice. The only thing that would be the cherry on the sundae would be to find out he was in a building next to Stark Tower; it would almost be fitting at this point, but he would definitely being sending a letter to someone if it was true.

"Welcome Mr Stark," said an agent as he pulled the hood off of Tony's head.

Stark eyed the man up and down, deciding that the agents were pretty much interchangeable with one another. "Snappy dressers all around I see. Seriously, you should give some thought to adding some color to the uniform."

"If you'll follow me. We have set up a room that I'm sure you'll find satisfactory. After you've had something to eat and drink you will be escorted to see the prisoner."

"Clint," corrected Stark.

"Excuse me sir?" asked the agent who was rather confused at Stark's quick objection.

"His name is Clint Barton; well actually _you_ can call him Agent Barton and he's innocent so we can do away with the whole prisoner thing and give the man the respect he's owed."

"If you say so sir." The agent turned and proceeded down the corridor with Tony in tow.

* * *

The clunk of the lock sliding over grabbed Clint's attention. Slowly and painfully he pulled himself into a sitting position; the chains shackling his hands and feet together jingling at the movement. The door moaned as the guards pushed it open and in strode Agent Mason.

"Mr. Stark is here to work on your defense with you. The conversation will be monitored and any untold activity on your part will signify your forfeit of this opportunity the council has graciously provided you and will automatically find you guilty. Is this understood?"

Clint simply nodded his head; there wasn't really a lot he could do in his condition, especially if they were going to hold Tony over him. Agent Mason walked out and Stark sauntered in. The door slammed shut behind him giving the pair the allusion of privacy and all the comfort of being stealthily watched.

"You look like hell Barton. If this is what the good guys do to you, I don't want to see what the bad guys do."

"What the hell are you doing here Stark?"

"You think you'd be a little nicer after the trek I had to take to come and visit you. Next time you should ask to be transferred to a prison a little closer to home. In case it wasn't obvious, I'm here to save your ass."

Clint knew what Tony thought he was doing but it wasn't going to turn out the way the team wanted; it never could with him bringing them down. In a very subdued voice he replied, "it's not worth it."

Tony couldn't say he was surprised by the archer's attitude. One look at the man and Tony knew he'd have thrown in the towel if the situation was reversed. "I didn't know you were a quitter Barton."

"I'm not quitting, I'm just being realistic."

Stark shrugged nonchalantly; although he felt anything but when looking at the state of his friend "sounds a lot like giving up to me."

"Look Stark, you've done your good deed for the day. You stood up and offered to help the hopeless, cause now go home and forget I ever darkened your door."

"I'm a billionaire, so a little charity work is good for my PR; therefore consider it helping myself and not you."

"There's nothing you can say that's going to make this alright. I did everything they said I did, and I'm going to continue to bring you all down if no one puts an end to it."

"Now, if we were all condemnable for our past transgressions there would have been no Avengers to save the world; well except Cap, but nobody else can be that moral all the time. I know what it's like to want to take responsibility for the damage you're responsible for; but for God's sake Clint, Loki wasn't your fault and that whole thing with the holding me at gun point and trying to beat Cap to a pulp wasn't either! And if you were anything like those sanctimonious blood suckers claim you were you wouldn't have got your shit together to help us save New York, and you wouldn't have even considered taking yourself out to protect us during the Keres incident. If you're not going to fight for yourself then fight for us, your team. Fight for Romanoff, because _I'm_ not going to be the one to tell her you gave up when we could have won this one."

Barton just stared at the floor as Stark went on his tirade, but looked up at the mention of his partner. He would kill for one more day where they just took time to quietly study mission briefs. No words were ever exchanged, they didn't have to; but just being there in the calm before the storm made him feel like he belonged somewhere. He sighed "why are you doing this Tony?"

"I don't know, but I blame Rogers."

"Why Steve?"

"I blame everything on him. His morality has a horrible habit of rubbing off on me and maybe because..." Tony trailed off in thought. Changing direction he said with a shrug "we just really need to get better at this whole team thing."

"But why would you do it for me?" Barton implored "I've tried to kill you – twice now."

"I think if you were really trying you would have succeeded by now, unless SHIELD excels at employing incompetent assassins. Besides, you'd do the same for me. Now, do you need some kind of chick flick hug or can we get down to trying to save your ass; 'cause I'm telling you right now, I don't do hugs."

"They're going to lock you up when this fails Stark," warned the archer.

In an equally subdued voice Tony answered, "They can try. It's not going to fail, we can't afford for it to fail."

Clint knew Stark was right, they were past the point that iron man could safely walk away. Even if he didn't agree with it, he was going to have to escape punishment in order to protect the team. Barton took a deep breath, it was going to be a hard fight but they had to prove him innocent.


	10. Chapter 10

Stark and Barton had spent their time reviewing the files that Romanoff had given them; those, combined with the stories and cases that Clint provided, gave them a shot at a decent argument. Even after Tony was forced back to his accommodations, leaving his friend in that hell hole alone, he continued to go over the files.

His escort to the proceedings arrived at too early an hour in Tony's opinion. Based on the description Barton had given him, he surmised that it was Agent Mason in the flesh. Stark could feel that nervous twitch which caused him to punch people in the nose coming on.

"What, no continental breakfast to start the day off?" quipped Iron Man.

Mason smiled. "If you want breakfast, I'm sure we can oblige. You're not going to get the traitorous rat off anyways, so the time you take out for breakfast isn't going to do any harm to your case."

Shooting to his feet, Stark came up short as he saw Mason's hand move reflexively to his gun; the two stared each other down for a moment. Tony was much more comfortable performing heroic feats in his suit; but he never wanted to pound someone's face in with his bare hands more than that moment.

"If you'll follow me, we can begin this sideshow."

Keeping it together, Tony grabbed his phone with the files he was going to present and followed the agent to the meeting room; it was similar to the one that Fury had aboard the helicarrier. Not wanting to do anything in person, the council had five screens set up at the front of the room. A table was placed to one side and two chairs were behind it. One chair was bolted to the floor and had several metal hoops welded to the arms and legs for shackles to be secured to.

There was a large guard stationed at the door he had just entered through and another one at the door on the other side of the room. Barton was dragged through the other door and secured to the chair. Tony rolled his eyes; they weren't taking any chances with the Avengers. The prisoner's escorts took up position at the back of the room and Mason stood in front of the screens as they flickered to life.

"Council members, Director Fury and the rest of the Avengers initiative which I'm sure are just off screen from you Director, Mr. Stark and former Agent Barton are present."

"Still pretty sure he's an agent," objected Stark.

"Thank you Agent Mason. If we can proceed Mr. Stark," said council member two.

Mason smiled at his slight victory, as Stark moved to stand in front of the screens. Barton's gaze followed Mason as he moved to the back of the room; he had a feeling that Mason was going to be an obstacle for them.

"Once again I'd like to suggest that we put an end to this waste of time and declare Barton innocent, then we can all go out to the local Chilli's and get some ribs or something. Who's with me?"

"Mr. Stark if you can't be serious about this we can move straight to sentencing," cautioned the third council member.

"Alright can I present case number one of four thousand sixty-eight of Barton being a hero. I believe its case file number 136948-25Q in the files I'm sending you now." Tony punched a button on his phone and began sending his information along the SHIELD signal he'd high-jacked.

The hours passed as Tony cited example after example of the good work Clint had done during his time at SHIELD, and the council countered with another example of insubordination and order defiance; though the council was starting to sound like a broken record with their examples, while Tony still had many more tunes to sing for them.

The sheer volume of successful missions took hours to rattle off; and even the cases where Barton had a questionable interpretation of his orders and mission parameters, usually ended in a success one way or another. Everyone present knew the archer's record spoke for itself, but if there was a point to nitpick the council was all over it; apparently orders were orders no matter how stupid or useless they were. There was also an under lying tone of 'you're only as good as your last mission', and those were the ones that Stark knew would strike up the greatest debate.

A recess was declared and everyone took a break from the proceedings; the council's screens went blank as well as Fury's.

"It's not going well," muttered Clint. He had probably spoken more in the last few hours than he had all year. He'd certainly spent more energy defending himself and his actions than he had when he had been disciplined for them the first time.

"It's hard to tell, they don't really give you anything do they?" Tony was finding it hard to read the council members; they were as impassive as Coulson had been. The world could be ending and you wouldn't be able to detect any change in them. "Seriously Barton, you're so straight laced, when did you find time to be this rebellious," asked Stark waving his hand over the list of counter points that had been uttered.

Clint shrugged his shoulders, "I'm no Captain America."

An evil smile spread across Tony's face; they were definitely going to have to start bonding when all this was done. There was unquestionably a kindred spirit in there, underneath the cool SHIELD operative, that Stark could definitely sway to the dark side.

Sitting in silence they both pondered what was going to come next. So far they had just gone over Clint's records. There was nothing overly incriminating there; the real issues would come up when they started discussing Manhattan and beyond.

With the break over and the proceedings back under way, Tony learned that the council wasn't going to pull any punches. The more they continued, the more Clint's shoulders slumped and the angrier Stark got.

"The real matter here is that Barton has demonstrated twice now that he is a direct threat to this organization and the operatives working for it. He is directly responsible for eighty-four deaths and that's not counting collateral damage during his partnership with Loki. That alone should have had him terminated," hissed the first council member.

"I may have killed all of those agents, but you were prepared to level a _city,"_ snapped Clint.

"We're not the ones on trial here, Barton."

"Maybe you should be," countered Stark.

"When we give orders that put agents lives on the line, it's for the good of the world; they die heroes. The men and women that died under Barton's hand did so because he was too weak to break the puppet strings."

Stark slammed his fist down on the table, earning a slight flinch from Barton who was slowly becoming more focused on his own internal debate regarding his guilt. "For the last time it _wasn't _a 'partnership'! According to the reports from the scene, even the one by Fury; Agent Barton was defending the base _against_ Loki until the blue glowing stick of destiny was brought into the equation. Given the choice he would have put an arrow in Loki's heart over working for the lunatic."

"You seem to have a lot of excuses for Barton. 'Oh it was drugs; oh it was mind control,' both of which I do believe we train our agents to withstand. Do you agree?" questioned the fourth council member.

The archer replied, "We weren't trained for anything thing like this."

"Yes or no Barton; were you or were you not trained to resist drugs and mind control?" reaffirmed the second shadowy figure.

"Yes."

"And clearly you failed at resisting on both occasions?"

"Yes, but..."

"Yes or no!"

"Yes."

"Further investigation has proven that there is no conclusive evidence that if Loki should escape his prison on Asguard and return to Earth that you wouldn't be subject to him again. Do you agree?"

"Based on what your report says, I guess, but..." a stern glare from the people on the screens stop Clint and had him rephrase. "Yes." He was digging his own grave and pulling Tony down with him. He wasn't given any room to qualify his responses, and he knew they were doing it on purpose. The quest for right and answers flew out the window at the start of the proceedings.

"This is ridiculous; not unlike your inability to do this in person. If you're going to condemn someone without giving them a chance to defend themselves, then you could at least have the guts to do it in person," snapped Stark.

Unable to keep the anger out of her voice, council member one retorted, "we _are _giving him a chance to defend himself but, as you can see, there isn't any way to justify his actions."

"Bullshit! The guy had no choice; and when your little serum caused him to go temporarily crazy, his course of action was to let us kill him so he wouldn't hurt anyone. Does that sound like something a threat would do?" demanded Iron Man.

"Barton failed to stop Loki, failed to stop himself from killing his fellow agents, civilians and almost destroying the helicarrier. He failed to perform at the bank, and he failed to keep the situation at Stark Tower from escalating to the level it did. Barton is a failure, and doesn't deserve to be a part of this organization. The only thing he actually did succeed at was getting Loki everything he needed to open the portal and almost destroying the helicarrier!"

"Proving he has a very valuable skill set; who else could have accomplished so much so fast. That's definitely someone to have on _your_ side."

"He even confessed to treason before these proceedings were scheduled," countered the second council member.

"He did that to protect us, his teammates. That's what he does when he's not putting arrows through bad guys for you."

Clint listened to the whole world arguing about him. He wanted to win this to keep Tony safe; but they were right, he'd failed. He had failed in all the ways the council highlighted and he was currently failing to protect Tony. How many times would he have to hear it; each time the words rolled off of their lips a sharp pain flared in the archer.

"We've heard enough. The council will deliberate and come back with the verdict," informed the fourth member.

"It's not nearly enough because you haven't been listening to what we've said," countered the billionaire.

The archer's head snapped up. They couldn't be done yet; he needed them to let Tony go. "Wait! I can't argue with your opinion of me and those things..."

"Clint, don't cater to them," warned Tony.

Barton continued without hesitation, "I did them, the circumstances are debatable but at the end of the day it was my hand that released the arrows that killed those agents. We both knew how this was going to play out today and I probably deserve whatever you decide; but the Avengers are heroes, they saved the world and they'll do it again. But if you do this to Stark and the rest of them, you'll be destroying the best thing that was ever conceived by this organization. On behalf of all the innocent people on this planet I ask that you don't take that away."

"We'll take that under advisement Agent Barton," said the third council member before the screens went black and they started to deliberate.

"That was really heartfelt Clint," said Stark, pretending to wipe away a fake tear.

"Shut up Tony. You have to get out of here."

"Seriously, that gave me goosebumps. I'd find you innocent after that, but I thought you were innocent to start with. Don't worry, they're not locking me up," assured Stark though looking around the room at the various guards he was starting to second guess the backup plan.


	11. Chapter 11

Part of Tony wanted to laugh at the formality of it all. Shouldn't condemning someone to death be more of an event? An outsider could easily mistake the proceedings as a panel deliberating who was going to receive a research grant not the serving of a death sentence. It was just another day at the office for the council; they delivered an impossibly long speech in some misguided effort to sanction what they had taken all of thirty minutes to decide.

Clint stared at the floor; he couldn't bring himself to look at Stark. The man had put in a valiant effort to try and save him but it would be all for naught. The deliberating time had been brief, but there wasn't a lot for the assassin to think about. The condemned usually get one final request; maybe if he could make another impassioned plea on behalf of Stark, the council would reconsider as far as the other Avengers were concerned.

He couldn't bring himself to look at the monitor that showed the director either; the feeling of letting the man down was too strong. Fury had put his faith in Barton, and Clint had tried to show that he deserved that kind of trust; but, as always, he'd messed things up. He was surprised that the Director was still taking an interest; all of the other people in his life had left him before the conclusion of his disasters.

Not visible, but undoubtedly there with Fury, would be Natasha. Clint could picture the many faces she would be putting up as the council rambled on. He could almost hear her telling him 'at least the bad guys don't rattle on about how good they are before they kill you.' It was always the least appropriate times that Romanoff tried to make him laugh. When they were alone together she was always so serious, but put them in a life or death situation and she was warm and charming. She would definitely be there to see how this turned out, clearance or not.

The only words that stood out to anyone that was in attendance were "we find Clint Barton guilty."

Fury's screen went black and Clint rose to his feet despite the shackles and the armed guards who surged forward to stop him from moving. Hoping humility might gain him some ground he begged, "I wish to address the council."

"Our decision is final," replied the first council member.

"I'm not asking you to reconsider your verdict. You have me, there is no reason to arrest Iron Man; he has nothing to do with this. He's only here under some misguided notion that saving me will help the world, when arresting him is only going to place the world in jeopardy."

"All parties are aware of the arrangement and it will be carried out as discussed. Mr. Stark will be remanded into custody, and Clint Barton's execution will go ahead as scheduled at 0800 tomorrow morning."

Clint was numb to it all; he'd let Tony down. The guards manhandled Stark into a set of cuffs; Barton couldn't help but notice how incredibly calm Tony was with everything.

Stark flinched as the guarded tightened the cuffs around his wrists with a little too much enthusiasm. He had been certain the verdict would come back as it did, but actually hearing those final words killed a little piece of hope that he didn't know was there. The team had planned for this and he was certain it would work, but they hadn't counted on the execution being scheduled for tomorrow morning.

The pair were marched out of the room and into separate cells. Tony racked his brain thinking of a way to stall the proceedings; the team wouldn't be there until tomorrow morning but he couldn't afford to wait that long. He was just going to have to push up his timetable.

* * *

Creaking open, the cell door gave way to Agent Mason. Clint didn't even bother to roll over on his cot to face the smug man who had a gleam in his eye ever since the verdict came down.

"You have a visitor Barton."

Curious, Hawkeye cracked an eyelid and turned to see who was entering the cell. The guards had been dismissed, and it was just Mason and the fourth council member. He didn't think he warranted a personal sit down with the council member, but the man's appearance got Clint's attention.

"Agent Barton," the older man greeted.

"Not agent anymore."

"Yes, that is true. I've come to offer you some friendly advice. You compassionate plea did not fall on deaf ears. It has been brought to my attention that your friends are going to try some ill-conceived escape attempt; but I'm willing to make you a deal."

"A deal for what?" Clint couldn't fathom what the man could possibly want from him. They were getting their wish and executing him in the morning; really, what else was there?

"When they come to break you out..."

"What makes you think they'll come?"

"Oh, they'll come my dear boy. I'll make sure Stark gets away and after things cool down, I will sway the council to drop the condition that Mr. Stark be remanded into custody. Agree, and Stark will be a free man and no action will be taken against the rest of the Avengers."

"What do I have to do?"

"You just have to stay here. Let them come and go and you remain here."

"And they remain free and I..."

"Well, you'll be put to death my boy but your friends will be free. It's more than you have now." He paused to guage the prisoner's reaction. "You have to face facts here; you're going to get them killed if you remain a part of the Avengers. This is the one thing you can do for them; don't let them take that away from you."

"And if I don't?"

"You may or may not escape; this facility is guarded by highly qualified SHIELD agents. If you don't stay, the council will have to take a much closer look into the Avengers initiative and whether or not we really need them. We will also have to take a particularly close look at Agent Romanoff, considering it was you that brought her into this organization."

A warning bell went off in Clint's head - he couldn't put his finger on it, but something told him that giving this man what he wanted would be disastrous. The alternative could be worse though; his week with Mason and the emotional turmoil over the trial had rocked him to his core. The one remaining goal he had was within reach, but his instincts screamed not to take the deal.

"Why do I get the feeling you're after something more?"

"My motives are not up for discussion. That is the deal, take it or leave it."

Mason and the council member left the condemned to ponder their proposal. When they reached the end of the hall the man turned to Mason. "Make sure things are ready to go for tomorrow, I wouldn't want there to be any mix ups. This is too important to botch now."

"Are you sure about this sir? Surely the council could just..."

"Deniability Agent Mason, the council wants deniability in this matter. You know what's at stake; now see that it's carried out as planned."

* * *

Stark waited until lights out before activating his communications device he built into his watch. So far things were not going well. Mason had triumphantly declared that the homing device Stark had wasn't going to work; clearly he was going to have to go back to the drawing board on that one. It also meant that he was going to have to do some improvising. The team wouldn't be able to find them on the base, so they were just going to have to leave and hope the team would see the movement and meet them half way.

"Good evening sir," greeted Jarvis.

"I'm going to need you to go ahead and initiate plan A."

"Right away sir."

Stark had brought his latest model of the Iron Man suit. This one fit into a much more compact case which also had the ability to seek out the homing device that Tony had installed in his watch. It would probably gain a lot of attention but there wasn't much of a choice.

The suit arrived, and in moments Iron Man was ready to make short work of the cell door. Barton's cell was down the hall. Two agents tried to stop him but one good shove had them both meeting the wall then the floor.

Stark fired his repulsar at the door then walked into Clint's cell, the archer looked up at Iron Man and cracked a half smile. Trust Tony to orchestrate a jail break while making as much noise as possible. Reaching down, Stark snapped Barton's chains.

"Time to go bird boy, we're flying the coop."

Clint jumped up off his cot and followed his teammate back down the hall. They knew that they were two floors underground and made it to a stairwell without incident. The main floor turned out to be a different story. The second they exited the stairwell several agents opened fire; diving for cover, Barton let the bullets harmlessly ping off of Iron Man's armour.

Tony turned and fired his weapons; he took out all three agents, but more were on their way. He grabbed Clint by the arm and pulled him down the narrow corridor. Stark took the lead, being faster in his suit and acting as a shield against the agents that popped up around corners trying to capture the pair again. The exit was in sight; a distant beacon, but in sight.

Clint could hear the men behind them and see Tony running ahead of him. No matter what Stark did they weren't going to get away but perhaps his friend could? The council member's proposal echoed in his head. Barton didn't want to die; given the choice he would pick life like everyone else. He would love to see the team again, to see Natasha and tell her... he didn't know what he would tell her but he wanted the opportunity anyway. However, life wasn't fair, and Tony shouldn't have to suffer to give him a chance that wouldn't come. His life in exchange for a team mate was a fair trade in his book. They might see it as giving up, but this could be the last thing he could do for his team; his friends. One day they might get past the pain and see the act for what it was.

He waited until Stark made it past one of the security doors, then he stopped running. It took Tony a moment to realize Clint wasn't behind him anymore. Turning, Tony watched the archer reach over to the wall and pull the manual lever sealing the door shut. He tried to get back to the door to stop it from closing and sealing Hawkeye on the wrong side, but he was too late. The door clicked into place just as his metal fingers brushed the side of the door.

"Clint, open the door _right now!_"

In an utterly calm voice Clint replied, "You need to leave Stark."

Tony could see the guards getting closer through the thick window in the door. There was still time, if Clint would just open the door. "Barton don't do this. We're practically home free just open the damn door." Tony started kicking the door in a feeble attempt to get what he wanted.

The broken cry carried over the clang of the inventor's kicks. "Tony... please just go!"

_"NO!"_

The guards were almost on top of him now. If Clint did open the door neither would make it out of there; and if Tony waited much longer he wasn't going to either anyway.

"You have to take care of the team; this is the only chance any of you have. I'm not worth it, not sure I ever was. Just take care of Nat and tell her... just look out for her ok?"

Tony watched for a second as Clint fought the guards. The man was giving it everything he had and as much as it killed Stark to leave Barton behind, he couldn't be recaptured; if he was, their plan would fail. He had to get the team to move faster and make it there before the execution. Tony left; he made it through the rest of the compound and to freedom alone and oddly uncontested.


	12. Chapter 12

With Jarvis's help, Iron Man quickly got his bearings after he took flight from the compound. It pained him to leave Barton there, especially with the impending deadline fast approaching, but for the life of him he couldn't figure out why Clint had closed the door. They'd been so close; there was no reason for Hawkeye to throw it away at the last moment. There wasn't any time to dwell on it, the clock was ticking and he had to get back to rally the troops and break their wayward bird out. It looked like they were going to get another crash course in 'pulling together'.

Ignoring the looks from the various passing agents aboard the helicarrier, Stark strode to the meeting room; where Rogers and Romanoff were going over the base schematics Tony had managed to discreetly send them. Bruce was putting the last few pieces of medical supplies he thought he would need into one of the many cases the rest of the team had packed in preparation for their retrieval mission. While they were following the trial, Bruce had been brushing up on various medical treatments and measures based on the methods used by the council for interrogation and execution; he didn't want to take any chances that they might not be prepared for something.

Romanoff, Rogers and Thor had been planning out different assault patterns and scenarios; so when Tony entered the room it only took a split second for the team to be ready to go. Time was their greatest obstacle now and, of all the things in the world that could beat them, they weren't going to let it be the clock.

After the verdict Fury had conveniently become buried in his work. With several other missions on the go he had no time to babysit a team of highly dangerous and motivated adults who had mistakenly been given access to a quinjet and any other resources one might need to attempt a jail break. He made a mental note to step up security around the helicarrier sometime next week.

The team boarded the jet and took their seats. Using Jarvis to transfer the controls to his suit, Tony took the pilot's position; they weren't willing to chance that one of the SHIELD pilots might answer directly to the council. So, with the AI's help, Tony stood a good chance at flying the highly advanced piece of technology.

Flipping the start up switches Stark asked, "everyone's sure they want to do this. This is your last chance to walk away." No one made any attempt to leave the quinjet. "Romanoff?" he asked, wanting to give her one last chance to reconcile her duty to SHIELD and the team.

"Let's do this." Natasha took the co-pilots seat and began plotting in their course. They were off to save their teammate, what came after that was still a work in progress. However, based on what she had managed to piece together the night before, there still might be a chance that things could work in their favor.

Fury watched the jet take off on his computer screen. He had disagreed with the council many times and this was no different. He couldn't even justify the outcome of their actions; the Director was all for keeping the world safe, but killing Barton wasn't going to ensure that. If it was then he would have been the first person to take the agent down. The Avengers were their greatest chance at a protective force, and the only way the initiative was going to work was if it had all of its dysfunctional members together. He couldn't openly help them save Clint, but the problem with only having one eye was it left you with a huge blind spot.

* * *

The cell door slid open and Agent Mason entered with his usual entourage; Clint opened his eyes and turned his head but didn't get up from the cot. Waiting for anything else in his life, time seemed to proceeded at a crawl, but not this night. Time flew by like the universe couldn't wait for his date with the executioner.

"It's time," informed Mason not even trying to keep the enjoyment off his face.

Clint silently made it to his feet and followed the suit out of his cell. The guards were really unnecessary, he had no intention of running; he would cooperate. He was escorted up one floor and then down a series of corridors. When they got to the room, the guards stopped at the door and only Mason and Barton continued over the threshold. Two of the medical officers were waiting and a video camera was set up so the council could watch their fine work; it seemed they saw better from a distance as well.

Mason's cold voice broke through Clint's wandering thoughts, "if you'll have a seat."

The archer complied and got up on the gurney. Mason removed the shackles and proceeded to strap the prisoner down; the two doctors began to busy themselves with their prep work. Soon a tray with several syringes found itself next to the gurney and an IV line had been set up and inserted in Clint's hand.

"Is there anything you wish to say before we proceed?" asked Mason. Clint shook his head. "Then we will continue as scheduled with the execution of Clint Barton at 0800 hours."

The minutes ticked by slowly; every second being punctuated loudly by the clock ticking away and a nervous twitch in Barton's stomach. When the hour chimed Mason nodded to the doctor that had taken a seat next to Clint. Unlike the agent, the doctor at least looked slightly saddened by the task charged to him that morning. He selected the first needle on the tray and removed the cap; grabbing the IV line he inserted the needle, pressed the plunger and injected the contents.

Barton focused on the ceiling; there was no point in thinking about it. Instead he chanted over and over in his head. _The team is ok; they're going to be fine._ Tony had escaped and Clint would no longer be a hindrance or a threat to his team. That would be his only saving grace; removing himself from the equation would equal their safety. The drug ran through the IV line and into the prisoner's veins. Soon Clint felt the heavy pull of his eyelids and a blissfully warm feeling spread over him; he fought if for a few seconds but the darkness's grip was too powerful. Just before he closed his eyes for the last time, he saw the doctor inject the second to last syringe into the IV line.


	13. Chapter 13

Time was the enemy and the Avengers had an appointment to keep. The council's agents put up an impressive fight to stop Iron Man from leaving, but they were no match for the determination the Avenger had burning in his soul. After meeting up with Iron Man the team started their journey to the secret council facility that was holding Barton. All eyes were glued to the clock that was working against them.

"Can't this thing go any faster?" asked Captain America as he paced the back of the jet.

"Maybe if you got out and pushed," suggested Tony.

"If you don't stop pacing Steve, things are going to get really ugly back here," added Banner who felt the pressure's oppressive grip pulling at him.

Tony had hacked into the computer systems and located the room where they were going to kill Clint and mapped out the quickest route there. Thor and Captain America would hold their position in the jet within the hanger, while Black Widow accompanied Bruce and Iron Man to rescue Clint. Romanoff was going to be the muscle to take down any agents that threatened to stop them, and Stark was going to be their guide and technical support. Banner had spent his time brushing up on the different execution techniques used by the council in these situations, in case they had to take medical action.

When the verdict had come in, it had taken Natasha all of twenty minutes to get her and Clint's gear together. The rest of the team was gearing up for the unfortunate implementation of plan A under the assumption that they were still waiting until the last minute to inform the Black Widow of their foolhardy plan. Without any words Romanoff helped them prepare; she had even brought a rather impressive amount of medical supplies from SHIELD when she returned to the meeting room. She had made her decision to take up the fight with the Avengers with Fury's unspoken support; the man had conveniently looked the other way as she liberated the medical supplies.

The jet landed and the Avengers were met with an impressive force. The council was throwing everything they had at them. Amongst the sea of bullets, Thor had managed to clear a path for Banner, Stark and Romanoff to begin their journey inside the compound. Rogers and Thor took on the swarm of agents that were trying to overrun their escape vehicle - neither one said it, but they both knew the other half of the team had some serious ground to make up; it had taken far too long to get them into the facility.

Despite the fact that the men and women wearing SHIELD uniforms were trying to hinder their efforts Rogers and Thor tried their best to implement a no kill policy while incapacitating the force in front of them. At the end of the day these people were just following orders; yesterday they had all been on the same side, and if there was any justice in the world then tomorrow they would be on the same side once again. Pulling punches and hammer swings was surprisingly exhausting, but the pair would continue as long as the option was available. The other half of the team had agreed to the same terms, though they suspected Romanoff would define necessity a little different than the rest of them; depending on the state of Barton the whole rule might be thrown out in the end.

Black Widow and Iron Man took out all of their frustration on every poor soul that thought they should stand in the Avengers' way; not killing didn't mean bones couldn't be broken. Banner followed their wake of destruction; for the first time since Manhattan he desperately wanted to release the other guy. It would serve them all right; they wanted to see a monster, he was willing to show them that Barton wasn't anywhere near a monster. But, as much as he wanted to, Bruce knew he couldn't. They needed his recently acquired medical expertise, and if he was unleashing the beast then there would be no one to provide the medical assistance he prayed they wouldn't need. That thought alone managed to keep the righteous rage just below the surface.

It seemed like there was a never ending supply of agents; for everyone that was knocked out three more would show up to slow them down. It felt like they were going up hill; the ground they were gaining was coming too slowly. They still had seven more winding corridors to get down and another group of agents had just set up a barricade at the end of the hall.

Viewing the base schematic on his visor, Stark raised his hand and fired his repulsar at the wall blasting a large hole. "I have a short cut," he announced as he moved through the recently made door and around the road block the agents had set up at the end of the hall. It wasn't a lot but hopefully it would help them make up some time.

* * *

The doctor removed the needle from the IV line and glanced at the screen monitoring the prisoner's vitals; all were diminishing and with the contents of the last syringe it would all be over relatively quickly. He reached over for the final injection, but flinched just shy of the object when the door burst open.

Agent Mason drew his weapon and aimed it at the intruders; it was a rather hopeless situation. He knew his bullets would do nothing against the metal man standing before him, and many training sessions had taught him the hard way he was no match for the Black Widow. It was still his duty to try; it was his mission in life to uphold the right.

One _very_ satisfying backhand from Iron Man had sent Mason through one of the observation windows and into unconsciousness. The doctor raised his hands in surrender, as Natasha dispatched the guards that thought they could take control of the situation. Tony covered the doctor as Bruce moved in to see the damage done.

Alarms were silently flashing across the screen, confirming the dread that had gripped Banner when he entered the room and saw Clint lying strapped to a gurney with an IV line attached. The first injection would have been a sedative, the second a strong muscle relaxant that at that moment was ceasing the movement of Barton's diaphragm. The third would have stopped Clint's heart, but Bruce could see the contents had yet to be administered; their immediate concern was that Clint was not breathing well on his own.

They needed to grab the archer and flee before reinforcements arrived and trapped them all there. Clint was starving for oxygen, and every minute they wasted the chance of brain damage and death increased. Bruce turned and looked at Tony in panic; Iron Man could get back to the jet the fastest.

"Tony, I need you to grab Clint and get him back to the jet; you're going to have to intubate him right away. Natasha brought everything you need and Jarvis can walk you through it."

"Me?" gasped Tony realizing what he was being charged with.

"You can do it. It's just like working on a car; don't look at it as any more complicated than that. We'll be right behind you but you can get him there that much faster," assured Bruce. He wasn't entirely sure Stark could pull this off, but at the moment he was Clint's best chance.

Tony took a deep breath and scooped up the lifeless body of his friend; Barton's shallow and raspy intermittent breaths only increased Tony's growing panic. Natasha took out her fear and hate on the guards as she watched her partner flown out of the room by Stark.

"Banner let's go," called Romanoff as she moved to the door. Bruce grabbed a few things he thought they could use and joined Natasha in the dash back to the jet.

Iron Man flew past Thor and Captain America who were still holding their position in the hanger and inflicting as much damage to the building as possible. He stopped before the jet and carried Clint on board. Carefully laying his fallen comrade down in the back, he knew the situation was bad; especially when they had entered the medical room and found Barton strapped down and unconscious.

He didn't think that Clint had taken a breath for the last forty seconds; there was definitely no rise or fall to his chest as he lay completely still on the floor. Trust the ever efficient council to be right on schedule for an execution. Tony kept reminding himself that they hadn't finished injecting the archer with all of the drugs, which meant that there was a chance to revive Clint; he just wished he wasn't the one that had to start the life saving procedures.

Stark quickly took off the hand pieces for his suit; this kind of procedure didn't need to be complicated with the bulk of metal. With a shaking hand he grabbed the required items and followed Jarvis's instructions; he just prayed that Bruce would hurry up and take over.

Black Widow and Banner came running down the corridor with several agents in hot pursuit. Steve threw his shield at the agent that was taking aim at the pair. The man fell to the ground with a grunt, and Thor body slammed him to prevent him from getting back up until Black Widow and Banner had passed. They didn't stop running until they were aboard the jet. Natasha jumped into the cockpit and started the pre-flight sequence. Tony immediately joined her leaving Barton in much more capable hands.

"We're ready to go guys!" yelled Tony to the remaining two Avengers. Steve and the Asgardian took out the remaining guards and quickly boarded the jet; as soon as the hatch was closed they took off. Natasha turned on the weapons system and destroyed anything capable of flight in the hanger; the last thing they wanted was to be followed.

Rogers collapsed on to one of the seats in the back and tried to catch his breath from the battle. He watched in horror at the flurry of movement from Bruce. The doctor was hooking Clint up to the portable ventilator that Romanoff had managed to liberate from the helicarrier; Banner proceeded to pull needles and vials out of one of the med kits and inject the unconscious man. Desperately hoping they were not too late, Steve could do nothing but watch as he gripped his shield with white knuckles. They had fought too hard to have their teammate die on them. Thor paced the narrow path beside Clint and Bruce, waiting for some sign that they had succeeded in their quest.

"How's it going Bruce?" asked Tony.

"Not now Tony," growled the doctor as he continued his efforts to save the ailing man.

Needing the distraction from the scene in the back he turned to his co-pilot, "Where are we going anyway?"

"I know a place we can lay low while Barton recovers." Natasha kept her eyes on the changing skyline. She couldn't bring herself to look behind her; the scene back at the compound had been too much for her already; she couldn't watch the fight going on in the back of the jet. Clint had to be alright, he wasn't allowed another option.


	14. Chapter 14

The five worn and exhausted Avengers sat quietly around the rickety wooden table; silence gripped the remote cabin that Natasha had directed Stark to fly to. The last three days had been extraordinarily difficult on the team; so far the council hadn't found their safe haven but they knew it was a matter of time before they would have to move again, they just prayed it wouldn't be too soon.

Their main goal upon arrival was to see to their teammate and fortify the cabin. The fortifications had gone well, Clint's condition wasn't as fortunate. They had managed to keep him alive, but his vitals still hadn't stabilized over the last few days and he had yet to wake up. Bruce was at a loss to explain what was happening; the archer should have regained consciousness when the second drug wore off, but so far nothing. He wasn't out of the woods yet, and being forced to run right now may finish what the council had started.

Pepper walked out of the back bedroom and poured herself a glass of water; all eyes sought her out and she shook her head softly. Tony had retrieved his CEO yesterday, deciding that she was just as safe with them as she would be in any place Tony thought to hide her.

Rogers clinched his fists at the disappointing news and abruptly stood up. The chair skidding across the floor at his sudden movements and all eyes turned to him. "I'm going to do a perimeter check," he muttered, quickly making his escape to the less depressing world outside.

"I'll go sit with him for a while," offered Banner, rubbing some of the tiredness from his face. The team were sitting with their ailing friend in shifts leaving the other Avengers to take turns standing guard and trying to get some much needed shuteye.

"Yeah," muttered Stark, as he got up from the table to continue flipping through the files from the trial. He knew there was nothing there that could be of any use, he knew that the fifty-sixth time he read them; but, having the need to do _something_, he picked them up and began reading for the fifty-seventh time.

Sensing that the women were going to exchange words, Thor grabbed his hammer and went to seek out Rogers. Alone at the table, Pepper sat in the vacant chair beside the Black Widow. Trying desperately for reassurance she offered, "He's going to be alright Natasha."

The red head shook her head. "He hasn't been alright for a long time. Bruce doesn't know why he won't wake up and with everything else..." It was hard and getting harder to face each moment. Her world had been turned upside down for so long now, and there was still no end in sight. She needed her partner to reassure her and tell her everything was going to be ok, but he wasn't there and hadn't been for a long time.

Accompanying the growing resentment Natasha felt building towards Clint, was the guilt that she in turn hadn't been there for him like she knew he needed. All of her energy had been going into over compensating for the fact that Barton had been shutting down. She'd been avoiding getting him to open up and deal with everything because getting him to deal with it meant that she would have to take a good long look at the events that had led them to this point, and she wasn't sure she was ready to deal with them either.

She was glad that there was something else to focus on right after her fight with Clint on the helicarrier; in fact it took several days for the possibilities to actually sink in. The coulda, shoulda, woulda game started playing in her head with frightening results; and not feeling up to dealing with the fallout, she erased the incident from her mind and refused to acknowledge anything that would remind her of those moments when Clint's hands were dangerously close to pressing that knife against her throat or that gleam in his too blue eyes that promised all the evil things Loki had spoken of. She had tactfully ignored talking about it when Barton so desperately needed to.

"He'll wake up and when he does this team will come together and find a way to fix this mess."

"I think I'm just going to go lay down; I have the next watch." Romanoff made it to the door of the second bed room pausing for a moment to look back at Pepper. "I hope you're right," she sighed before slipping into the darkness.

"I hope I am too."

* * *

It wasn't hard for Thor to track down the Captain; if the council did have men in the forest looking for them, the sheer sound of Rogers' anger would direct them straight to the cabin door. A loud snap followed by several clunks led the thunder god to the vastly growing wood pile not far from their accommodations. He watched for a few moments as Steve let out a growl and dropped the axe down with such force that the log shattered into five pieces. Without pause the Captain chucked the smaller pieces onto the wood pile and grabbed another large piece and placed it on the chopping block.

"You have an impressive swing," said Thor.

"Yeah? Well I guess you'd know," replied Steve as he grabbed another block of wood.

"Yes, I would. I also know what troubles you my friend."

Rogers wiped the sweat from his brow. "What's that?"

"You feel you have lost your place again. As a man out of time, you have lost all those you held dear. Now in the face of our current battle, you may well lose those you care for again."

"And what would you know about it?" snapped Captain America. He hadn't meant to snarl at Thor, but his frustration was building and there didn't seem to be an appropriate release in sight.

"I myself was once exiled from my home."

"And how did that work out for you?"

"It was indeed troubling at first, but I did meet the fair maiden Jane and her companions; I gained valuable insight which allowed me to realize my true destiny and become the man you see before you. The greatest of my lessons learned was that misguardians are capable of so many things and should not be underestimated."

Steve paused for a moment to really listen to Thor's words. "Our friends will rise to the challenge and we will be victorious. This fight is not solely on your shoulders my friend; you must have faith that they can do this."

Turning to place the axe back into the chopping block, Steve had missed the Asguardian's silent departure. For a man from another planet he was oddly insightful; perhaps he didn't give the rest of the Avengers enough credit to stand on their own feet and hold their own in battle. Maybe they didn't need Captain America to save them, but to trust them to be able to stand alongside him.

He'd found a new place to belong; but assuming that it would be lost, was admitting that Steve didn't feel the team was up to the challenge. Maybe being the team leader meant having faith that they could stand on their own and thus let him focus on his part of the mission, instead of worrying about friends that had proven they were more than capable of facing any challenge. They all had special talents and didn't need Captain America to babysit them rather to fight with them; they would get through this and they would be victorious.

* * *

The frenzy of alarms in the next room woke the team from their slumber. In record time they stumbled through the dark and into Barton's room, to find Bruce manually pumping air into the archer's lungs. He had been breathing on his own for the last few days but was apparently now taking a giant medical step back.

"Is he flatlining again? Cause he only gets to do that once and then he's used his turn," said Stark as he watched Banner dig through one of the medical bags with one hand.

"His respiratory system keeps trying to shut down," corrected Bruce.

"That's equally as horrifying."

"Do you know why?" asked Steve as he took over bagging for Banner, when the doctor waved him over to the bed.

"It shouldn't be happening. I flushed the drugs out of his system, and anything they would have given him during his medical eval. would be out of his system before the trial."

Steve watched Bruce as he began pulling equipment out of the medical cases. "Can you figure it out?"

"I'm a physicist with self taught medical knowledge. He needs a real doctor." There was genuine fear in the doctor's eyes that he just might not be enough to help their teammate.

"Well right now you're all he's got." Rogers locked eyes with Banner and in his most reassuring voice reminded, "you can do this."

Bruce ran his hand through his hair and adjusted his glasses. "We're going to have to hook him back up to the portable ventilator. Tony, I'm going to need you to wire something together to keep the batteries charged; it wasn't designed to be used long term."

"On it," replied Stark as he left to begin his task.

Natasha moved in to help Banner start setting up the equipment and begin re-intubating Barton.

* * *

It was early in the morning, or late at night depending on one's point of view, when Clint started to stir. He had managed to start breathing on his own again the day before. Natasha had taken the seat by his bed, having relieved Tony who had taken over for Banner hours before. The slight hand flinch was so small that if she hadn't been so focused on the man in the bed she would have missed it; reaching over she grabbed a hold of his hand and squeezed it in reassurance. "Clint can you hear me?"

A small tap of his ring finger and muffled moan was his only response. Biting her lip in anticipation she squeezed his hand harder. "Come on, open your eyes."

His head twitched to the right and his eyes started to move under closed lids. Clint's breathing had picked up slightly, and Natasha was torn between fetching Bruce and staying to be Barton's tenuous grip with the world.

He was fighting his way back to them, but it was a long and arduous battle. Romanoff's words of encouragement floated in the distance of the dark storm that was plaguing his efforts. Clint remembered being escorted to the infirmary and strapped down; then the feel of the warm and oddly comforting grip of the chemicals they were pushing through his veins. Surely fate wouldn't be so cruel as to conjure such a picture of safety and love as Natasha by his side, only to jerk it away as they administered the final injection? Not wanting to lose the comforting sensation of his hand tightly grasped in hers to be replaced by the cold and frigid scene of reality, he kept his eyes tightly closed.

"Come on Clint, you can do it; come back to us."

There was a desperate quality to her voice that clawed at his skin; he couldn't remember the last time he had heard her sound so vulnerable. Whatever was troubling her might be worth the tremendous effort to open his eyes.

Ever so slowly a slit of grey replaced his clenched eyelids and Natasha let out a sigh of relief. "Hey," she whispered.

Barton licked his dry lips and swallowed in an effort to sooth his aching throat. His mind caught up to the situation as he realized that at some point he must have been intubated, which meant that the team had rescued him. "wh-what happened?"

Natasha grabbed the pitcher of water from the nightstand and poured him a glass. She lifted his head gently and tipped the water forward. He took a small sip, then pushed the glass away. "Tony escaped and came back to get us; we broke into the base and rescued you before they could kill you. We managed to get away and take refuge here in the mountains."

He didn't need her to add that they were probably being hunted like dogs while he laid there. "You shouldn't have done it."

"You almost died Clint. What did you expect me to do, just sit there and let it happen? You can't tell me you wouldn't have done the same."

If the situation had been reversed he knew he would have moved heaven and Earth to save her, but it would have been different. She was worthy of being saved.

She watched the flicker of doubt reclaim the soul of a man that once used to exude quiet confidence. She wanted to slap him upside the head and knock some sense into her friend, but instead she pushed her frustration down. "You need to get some rest." Natasha didn't have to work hard to persuade him as his eyelids quickly began to droop.


	15. Chapter 15

While their ailing teammate wasn't back on his feet just yet, the fact that he had woken up put a bounce in the team's step. They knew they had to start planning their next move. Rogers called a team meeting to discuss their limited options, "any ideas?"

It was hard to think of a game plan when their main concern was fighting for his life in the next room. They all shared brief glances, until Natasha placed a data stick on the table; Tony quickly snatched the device and loaded it onto the tablet Bruce had sitting in front of him. The information flashed across the screen and Starks face lit up like a kid at Christmas.

"Good work Romanoff! This is practically a map to where all the bodies should be buried. One of the councilmen has been a very bad boy. He's also the one leading the charge against Hawkeye and proposed the plan to level Manhattan. According to everything we had found he was the one that voted in favour of every overkill action taken by SHIELD. This practically screams alternate agenda."

"I didn't do it."

Bruce replied to the confession, "So what? Fury decided to throw us a bone out of the kindness of his heart?"

"Coulson gathered the information," corrected the assassin.

Steve's forehead creased. "Why would he do that?"

"Yeah," added Tony, "the guy was practically as big a boy scout as Cap here. Digging up dirt on superiors is so ... so ... me!"

"Coulson looked after his people. He felt the council might not look to fondly on Clint's forced defection, so he started to put together an insurance policy after he returned from New Mexico. That's everything he found before he died. Looks like his instincts were right."

She had been surprised to find the file in Phil's room but not surprised at the length he would go to in order to protect those he was responsible for. No one could bring themselves to take over Coulson's quarters. The room sat empty out of respect, and Natasha had fled there after the verdict to try and channel the man's calm collected brilliance. She hoped that she would be inspired and find something to help them get out of the mess they were in. Sitting there at the formerly immaculate but now bare desk she caught the glint of something in the vent. Upon closer inspection she found the data stick that he had left for just such an occasion. She marvelled that Coulson still managed to have the answers to their problems even though he was gone.

Still engrossed in the file Tony said, "I think we might be able to make some persuasive arguments with these, but if this doesn't work, my vote is still for the Thor-Hulk tag team smack down of the council."

Bruce rolled his eyes and Thor offered a small chuckle; the god could go for a good sparring match right now. He had kept quiet during their plans regarding this whole situation; his customs were not the customs of earth. If they had done things his way, Thor would have challenged the council to glorious battle that ended with their heads on pikes. He didn't feel that suggestion would have gone over as well as he would have liked.

Catching Bruce's lack of enthusiasm Tony asked, "What?! We could market it and make some money, then retire from this life of crime."

Ignoring Stark, Bruce stated, "We need a plan. It's not like we can just walk in there and tell them one of their members is more crooked than a barrel of snakes."

Nodding Rogers added, "Bruce's right, assuming they believe the partially collected information we have, they're not just going to let us walk back in there..."

"We use me as bait," interrupted a voice from the back of the room. They all turned to take in the very pale and shaky Barton leaning heavily against the door frame.

"You need to be in bed," ordered the doctor.

Waving off Banner's concern, Clint took the painstaking ten steps to the table and collapsed in a chair. "They're after me. You can use me to draw them out and make the council listen to you."

Countering, Bruce snapped, "The only place you're going is back to bed. You almost died a few days ago, and you barely made it from the bedroom to this table." Holding his hand up, he put his thumb half an inch away from his index finger. "I'm this close to letting the other guy persuade you that you're in no shape to go or do anything."

"They do have an oddly singular focus on the hawk here," piped in Tony.

"We're not using him as bait!" yelled Natasha.

"I'm just saying they went from lock him up and throw away the key, to off with his head pretty quickly there. And then there's the fact that after they recaptured Clint during our jai break they didn't give me a second glance."

Barton snapped, "Look it's not really your call. If you all want your lives back then this is the only way to get this guy."

"Actually it is our call and we're not going to let you put yourself out there like a worm on a hook," answered Steve.

"Well I wouldn't be out there alone, I imagine I'd have my team backing me up. Unless any of you have any better ideas..." Silence greeted the archer as the team realized this might be their best chance despite the risk. "That's what I thought."

Romanoff glared at Clint. The fight was creeping back into his voice, but she feared it was for the wrong reasons. Not wanting to be party to what suspiciously sounded like a kamikaze run for Barton, she stormed out of the cabin letting the door slam shut behind her.

Clint stood up to try and stop her from leaving. "Nat-" he began, but then started to topple over as the room commenced a nausea inducing spin. Tony grabbed him by the elbow preventing him from colliding with the chair.

"Let's get you back bed; you can smooth things over with your girlfriend later," said Stark as he ushered the archer back into the bedroom with Pepper grabbing Clint's other arm.

"Is it wise to follow the archer's suggestion?" asked Thor.

"I don't see any other option, but the guy can barely stand," replied Rogers.

"It will take a few days to put this plan in motion I imagine. He won't be in top fighting form by then but he should be able to last more than ten minutes," added Bruce.

Steve glanced towards Bruce. "I sense a but, Dr. Banner."

"But.." He pulled his glasses of and began to clean them. "Most of his wounds were superficial designed to cause pain but not long term damage, and anything that wasn't shouldn't keep him down like this. I flushed the drugs out of his system on the first day; basically he should be showing more improvement by now."

"You think they did something else to him?"

"I don't know Steve. I'm not really a medical doctor, so I could be wrong here; I mean maybe I'm just missing something. There could be any number of variables to account for it."

Not seeing a wide range of options at their disposal, the Avengers began their plans to draw out the fourth council member in the hopes of getting him to confess to something. If they were right and he was up to no good, then he probably wouldn't alert the council to talking with the team. If Barton could get him talking and get the man to give them anything or show the council the meeting had taken place, it would go a long way to substantiating the pieces that Coulson had managed to gather.

* * *

It had been four days but the team had finally managed to put together a plan they could all agree upon. Stark would send a coded message to the councilman explaining that they were willing to make a deal: Clint in exchange for the council to stop hunting them. Rogers figured if the deal had been offered to Barton before the execution he might be willing to offer it to the team now.

Thor and Rogers had spent the last two days fortifying a meeting place for their operation. If they couldn't get the councilman to confirm the circumstantial evidence they had then things would probably turn violent. Stark was working on hacking into the councilman's private server and composing their message. They didn't need the full weight of the council coming down on them just yet if they sent a message on an open line. Banner's work load was getting lighter as Clint was getting better; he was in no condition to engage in an all out battle but at least he was able to get out of bed.

Natasha had become very quiet and refused to join in any conversations unless it dealt with their immediate plan of action. The thing that had caught everyone's attention was the fact that Barton and Romanoff weren't speaking to one another. She had made it no secret how she felt about Clint's plan to be the bait, and in turn Barton had thrown up a wall of resentment and anger. The pair had been actively avoiding being alone with one another for the last few days.

"We're on guys," declared Stark as he strode out on to the porch where Thor and Captain America were taking a break.

"He agreed?" asked Steve.

"The councilman is very interested in getting the number one threat off the street and the Avengers back to work. All I have to do is send him the coordinates tomorrow and we can get this party started."


	16. Chapter 16

Clint slowly made his way down the trail. Pepper had told him that Natasha was out doing a perimeter check and figuring it was as alone as the two were going to get, had set out to find her. He knew she was upset with him, but couldn't for the life of him figure out what he had managed to do; if anyone had a right to be angry it was him. She had never handled him with kid gloves before, and the constant protest to Clint being a participating member of the team was really infuriating. Then there was the fact that she was even with them in the first place. He had expected the misguided notion to rescue him coming from the others, but Romanoff should have known better; she should have put her duty before him.

Pausing in his step he saw the redhead sitting on a bench overlooking the meandering river just down the steep bank, Clint had always liked the view up there. Natasha didn't look up as he walked over and sat down next to her. Taking a deep breath he decided the direct approach was the best. Their plan was taking place tomorrow and there was no need to put off anything that needed to be said; he might not be able to say it later. "The councilman's going to go ahead for the meet."

"Looks like you get what you want Clint."

There was silence for a few moments before Barton spoke. "You just threw it away Nat."

He didn't have to spell it out; that's what was great about their relationship, they both knew what the other one was talking about. "I didn't throw anything away Clint. That is unless you continue to lay down and die for these people."

"Nat, don't."

"Don't Nat me." Her voice began to rise "I'm not going to watch you slowly kill yourself and I'm sure as hell not going to stay loyal to SHIELD when you need me. Loki happened, now get over it. It's done and we can't change it, but you're better than this Clint. Don't let it be the end of you." She wasn't completely sure if she was talking to Clint or herself.

There was the burn. Despite what he was going to do to her onboard the helicarrier when he attacked, she still had faith in him. She still believed that he was worth something when he had proven beyond a shadow of a doubt that he wasn't. Devoid of the initial frustration he had started the conversation he whispered, "just - stop it."

Her rage crept up as she heard the broken quality in his voice. She clenched her fist and let it fly connecting with the side of Barton's head.

"What the hell Natasha?" His hand gingerly probed the now aching spot next to his ear.

"If anyone gets to kick your ass it's going to be me. You owe me that much," she hissed.

Clint glared at her as she landed another hit to his shoulder. He bit the inside of his check to stop himself from hitting her back. Fighting her would be too reminiscent of something he desperately wanted to forget, but he wasn't sure he was strong enough to take her frustration and not hit back. He growled, "walk away."

Natasha threw a punch to his left which he raised his arm to block. She quickly delivered a blow to his right side.

"I mean it Natasha," he warned.

"Maybe you should get mad, it's a lot better than being _weak!" _

A vicious back hand caused his head to snap to the side. It stung almost as much as the words that preceded it. Before he knew what he was doing he was lunging towards Romanoff. She hit the ground with a grunt and Clint on top. He began hitting her raised arms; every blow a symbol of his hatred and if she couldn't see how worthless he was then he was damn well going to show her. He hated her for believing in him when she shouldn't. He hated her for becoming so important to him and he hated her for letting him care enough about her that she could be used against him; but most importantly he hated her for being the object of such hatred that he knew was solely directed at himself.

It didn't last for long as she brought her leg up over his shoulder and flipped him off. Landing on his back he brought his elbow down on where her chest should have been but Natasha had already twisted and flipped to her feet. She kicked out Barton's leg as he tried to get up but fell as he pulled her down with him. They struggled for a few moments unaware how precariously close to the edge they were.

Gaining the top position Black Widow grabbed Barton by the shoulder and slammed him against the ground. If he needed someone to punish him then it was going to be her; at least she knew when it was enough. She hoped she would remember when it was enough. The ground underneath them gave way and they went tumbling down the bank. They rolled faster and faster undeterred by the various bushes and branches trying to slow their descent into the frigid water below.

Crashing in to the cold water, Natasha's first instinct was to take a deep breath as the cold smothered her. Resisting the urge to take a gulp of air, she kicked towards the surface and frantically started looking for her partner who had yet to breach the surface.

"Clint!"

It was cold and dark as the water enveloped him. It would be so easy to take the large breath his lungs were desperately demanding and let the icy waters do the job that everyone else seemed to be incapable of. It was peaceful under the water; the world melted away leaving Barton with one decision. He caught the steady kicks of Romanoff's feet as she treaded water above him and suddenly the one thought that had plagued him all year receded to the notion that Natasha might need his help. They both had gotten banged up rolling down the steep bank; what if she needed help to make it back to the cabin. He was the only one that could save her right now; maybe he was the only one that could ever really save her. That was something that might be worth sticking around for.

Whether he liked it or not the team needed him to get them out of their current situation. A situation they wouldn't be in if it wasn't for him to start with, but what was done was done and they needed him. In the few moments he was submerged in the frigid waters Clint Barton came to the conclusion that his punishment for his actions would be to live if only to save his teammates, his friends from themselves. They clearly needed someone to watch their backs.

He broke the surface coughing and sputtering. "Nat?"

She closed her eyes in relief and proceeded to swim over to the flailing man, wrapping her arm around his neck to keep him above the water. It took a few seconds for him to take in their situation and start treading water on his own. They swam to shore with Natasha just in arms reach in case Clint need help.

Still coughing he crawled onto the narrow shore line at the bottom of the slope and lay down exhausted.

She plopped down beside him. "Feel better?"

"Hardly."

Laying there on the rocky shore soaking wet and cold felt like old times, before all the craziness and horrors of the last year. For a split second there was no guilt and no fear just the instinct for survival. Clint didn't think he was ever going to have a moment where he wasn't drowning in pain and guilt, but as he fought to get to the surface of the river it had all melted away. His main concern was seeing if Natasha was ok because he was the only one in a position to help her; nothing else had mattered. Now as they laid there catching their breath he realized she was right - he needed to try harder.

"Get mad, get angry but don't roll over and die Clint. This team needs you."

"Thanks. You always seem to know when to knock me upside the head."

"That's what partners are for."

"For the record I wasn't going to lay down and die."

"No. But you weren't going to fight either. I can't do this without you Clint."

Clint nodded his acceptance of their unspoken deal.

"Come on, let's get you out of these wet clothes," said Natasha as she offered him a hand up.

"You get to explain this to Bruce though." The doctor was not going to be happy about his patient coming back bruised and hypothermic.


	17. Chapter 17

"Comm. check people," said Stark, "Goldilocks is away in the woods and I've got Baby Bear here with me. What's your position Mamma Bear?"

Shooting a defiant glare Barton said, "you call me Baby Bear one more time and I'm going to break your face."

"Feisty! Here put these on." Tony tossed a pair of shackles at Clint. They had to keep the appearance of Tony turning Barton over to the councilman. It was another gamble putting their teammate in chains, even if the lock was rigged and Stark had Clint's bow and quiver slung over his shoulder. Barton begrudgingly snapped them into place.

The comm. link crackled to life. "Widow and I are at the rocks. I am _not_ calling you Papa Bear Tony! And why am I Mamma Bear?" Steve questioned.

"I thought you'd appreciate the military formality of it all."

"Just stay focused on the mission Stark," snarled Romanoff.

All was quiet as they waited in their positions. Iron Man was in the clearing with Barton, Black Widow and Captain America were holding position in the rocks by the tree line and Thor was across the field in the trees. Bruce was roaming the woods waiting to unleash his inner rage monster on any agents that wanted to join the party, and Pepper was safely tucked away back at the cabin.

"Does anyone have the mission impossible theme on their cell? I feel like that should be playing in the back ground."

"Tony!" hissed Rogers.

"Right, radio silence."

Clint cocked his head to the side. "Stark, shut-up."

"You shut up!"

"Stark! I hear them coming," informed Hawkeye.

"Copy that. We have a visual on their jet," confirmed Natasha.

The quinjet landed on the edge of the clearing and several heavily armed guards took position in the field. Mason escorted the councilman to where Stark and Barton were waiting.

"Mr. Stark, it's nice to meet you in person and Barton's all gift wrapped I see," started the councilman.

"I can honestly say the feeling isn't mutual," quipped Tony.

"You're a reasonable man. There's no reason for you and the rest of your team to suffer because of one man. You're making the right decision handing him over."

"So our deal still stands. We give you Barton..."

"And you all get your lives back. It's a very simple and easy transaction."

"And what do you get out of it?" posed Clint. "You set this up from the beginning for what?"

"Justice, my dear boy; you are the key to ensuring we have nothing to fear from those who would wish to invade earth. You are a threat and I'm making sure that all the loose ends are dealt with. The council has more faith in Fury than you might think, but the man is misguided. Sometimes you have to take a leg to ensure a cancerous tumor doesn't spread."

"And your just the man to decide these things?" asked Tony.

"Someone has to or you get the people in power hoping a rag tag team of heroes can pull out a last minute save."

"Right, that's why you're funding a number of covert operations under the radar and without council approval," countered Iron Man.

"Someone needs to do it." The guards began to ready their weapons "now, if you'll come with me Barton; we have an important date to keep."

"And what you're just going to march him back to that base and jab another needle in his arm?" asked Iron Man.

"Oh we're not going back to the council. I have better plans in mind."

"Actually, I think he's going to stay right here," said Tony as he slid his face plate down. "You however can put your hands up. I think the council would be interested to hear this conversation and an explanation for all of your nefarious activities."

The councilman chuckled as his men brought their arms to bear. Romanoff and Rogers were out of the rocks and in the field before the bullets started flying. The Captain pulled Black Widow close and used his shield to defect the onslaught of bullets. Tony spun Clint around so he was safely behind Stark's metal plating. Using his lightening, Thor render half the agents useless, giving the team enough of a distraction to make a move on the remaining men.

Seeing the situation moving out of their control, Mason grabbed the councilman and called in the second teams. They moved quickly towards the woods at the edge of the field.

"Here," said Tony, slipping Barton his bow and quiver while he removed the shackles. Stark then flew off to meet the next squad of agents head on. Hawkeye grabbed his gear and began firing arrows at the men trying to take on Romanoff and Captain America. Out of the corner of his eye he caught Mason moving off of the battlefield; he couldn't let their chance at reclaiming their lives disappear into the forest.

"You got this Cap? I see Mason trying to make a run for it..." asked Clint.

"We have it under control. Don't let him get away."

A mighty roar echoed through the trees. The hulk had found another group of agents lurking in the woods. The councilman had been prepared and brought enough men that the Avengers were going to be busy fending them off. The agents were skilled, but the team was determined. The numbers were greatly skewed against them, but slowly the scale was tipping in the Avenger's favor as they moved through the squads that were advancing on them.

Clint stalked his way through the trees leaving the sounds of battle behind him. Breathing through the protest of his aching muscles he quickly caught up to the councilman and Mason, firing a warning shot in front of the pair. They needed the councilman alive to clear their names; and, despite Clint's personal feelings towards Mason both before and after recent events, the man was merely following council orders and he didn't want to take yet another agent's life even if it would be a little satisfying.

"Surrender!" shouted Clint.

"I don't think so Barton," replied Mason as he spurred the councilman to continue on.

An arrow sailed through the trees and embedded itself in the councilman's leg. The man went down with a yelp. Clint could see that Mason wasn't going to go quietly, and he didn't need their leverage escaping while he dealt with the agent. Mason let off a shot blindly into the trees where he believed the arrow had appeared.

"Put it down Mason. This doesn't have to get ugly."

"What are you going to do? Add me to your rather impressive body count of agents?"

He fired a round into a tree just to Clint's left causing a shower of bark to spray in his face. The distraction was momentary, but Mason used it to close the distance between the two. Mason threw an elbow which Barton blocked, but he crumpled when Mason slammed his foot into the back of Clint's knee. Hawkeye ducked the next punch and pulled the agents leg out from under him; the gun went skidding across the forest floor out of reach.

They continued to exchange blows and Clint knew he had to make a big move, fast. His energy was draining quickly, and he couldn't keep up this level of activity as long as he normally would. A quick backhand followed by and elbow to the face brought Mason down hard. Rivers of red running down his face and, panting hard, the agent glared up at Barton. The archer had managed to pop out Mason's elbow and he knew he had lost the upper hand; the agent raised his hands in surrender.

"You think you're going to win anything here Barton? You're so involved you have no idea. You're going to be what destroys your friends. You're going to be the end of everything and they're _never _going to let you go, it can't be allowed!"

Clint aimed his bow but hesitated at releasing the arrow. It would be easy to let go and put Mason far out of his mind, but that would prove the agent right about him. He couldn't kill another agent in cold blood; he had done so much of that already. Clint lowered his bow and turned his head slightly to replace the arrow in his quiver.

In his moment of hesitation, Mason pulled a concealed knife and moved to lunge at Clint. Barton was rather surprised when instead of being slammed into by Mason; Thor's hammer flew past him taking out the agent. He stared down at the lifeless corpse, and felt the familiar cold feeling of an agent dying because of him seep into every part of his soul.

Hawkeye turned sharply towards Thor. "Why did you do that? I could have taken him without killing him!"

Catching his hammer Thor moved towards Clint. "You are a good man, Clint Barton. You do not deserve to feel responsible for this man's death. I believe you could have taken him; but today he would have slain you because you would not raise arms against a fellow agent. This man did not have the same honour that you possess; I could not stand idly by and watch him kill a friend."

Thor had been willing to keep him from killing another SHIELD agent. He had been willing to show strength when the archer didn't feel he could, and more importantly it felt like Thor understood Barton's dilemma. Looking at the mangled body of his enemy and fellow agent, Clint nodded and turned to look at Thor who was holding his fist out towards him. He looked skeptically at the fist.

Thor looked from the archer to his fist and back, his brow creasing slightly. "I believe the correct custom is to pound it."

Clint cocked an eyebrow at the request. "You need to stop hanging around Tony so much." Barton turned and made his way over to the councilman. "Come on Thor, you can carry our prize back. We need to go back and help the other clean up the mess."

* * *

Barton broke the edge of the forest just in time to see a hired mercenary trying to get the drop on an otherwise engaged Captain America. Apparently the councilman decided to bring more than just SHIELD agents to the party. The moonlight glistened off of the machete that was moving closer towards Rogers' back. Pulling his bow Clint lined up his shot and released; a small cry escaped the man's lips as the arrow implanted itself in the mercenaries' neck. Steve turned sharply at the sound and watched the blade clatter to the ground. Immediately turning towards the edge of the clearing he offered the archer a nod of thanks for having his back, then went back to wreaking havoc on one of the jets that had brought their latest nemesis.

Most of the SHIELD agents had been subdued, and the only threats still lurking the woods were the mercenaries' that the Avengers were more than willing to take out permanently. Thor was on babysitting duty, the Hulk was still roaming the forest dividing his time between taking out the enemy and smashing trees; Steve, Tony and Natasha were scattered across the clearing taking on anyone that dared cross their path and Barton decided to take refuge in the rocky outcrop to gain the best angle to support his team.

He glanced briefly in Romanoff's direction and watched her drop two men effortlessly. Smiling to himself he shifted his gaze towards someone who might actually be in need of his assistance. Releasing another arrow he took out one of the two men that were hanging off of Iron Man. Tony was able to kick the other one off and blasted off to lay waste to another SHIELD vehicle.

Like the spat with Natasha earlier, being perched on the edge of the battlefield watching his teammates' backs felt normal, it felt right. And, as bad guy after bad guy fell to his deadly aim, all the guilt and fear that had plagued Clint for almost a year fell to the background. He knew it wouldn't wash away completely; when the battle was over and he was alone at night it would rear its ugly head once again, but for the moment all that mattered was that Hawkeye had their backs and there wasn't anyone else that could do it as well.

The team slowly made their way back to the cabin once the councilman's force was dealt with. They were exhausted and banged up a little, but it had been worth it. Not only did they save one of their own, but the frustration and stress that had been building up over the last few weeks had found a release. The quiet and peaceful meadow that lay between the picturesque mountains was now a messy battlefield littered with the bodies of those that threatened their team, and what Stark estimated to be hundreds of thousands of dollars worth of destroyed SHIELD technology. Sometimes satisfaction was costly.

"Well I for one am sick of nature. My king sized bed is calling and I don't think I've had a decent drink or time in my lab since I don't know when. So what do we say we put this summer camp experience behind us and go back to civilization?" asked Stark as he looked around the table.

"You think we have enough to get the council back on our side and expose the councilman's plots?" questioned Bruce.

"You guys should be ok," offered Clint.

"Well it doesn't really mean anything if this is all for naught and you're back where you started Barton," replied Rogers.

"Yeah, well the council's not known for its forgiveness."

"Surely recent events have proven your worth and so force the council to reconsider their poor decision?" proclaimed Thor.

Natasha weighed in. "It should be enough, it should be more than enough but you never can tell."

"Then we'll just have to break you out again if it's not good enough for them. I think we're getting pretty good at the whole jail break thing. Avengers: jailbreak extraordinaires! I can see it now," added Stark. "I'll get Pepper to draft up business cards."

"We'll just have to cross that bridge if we get to it. We're a team and we'll do whatever we have to, to look after our own. In the mean time let's go home," declared Steve.


	18. Chapter 18

Clint drummed his fingers on the edge of the hard plastic chair; every so often Hill would glance at him and roll her eyes. The tapping wasn't helping him calm down but it was clearly getting on Hill's last nerve. He offered her a rather obviously fake smile every time they made eye contact.

After the battle, the Avengers had contacted Fury and sent him Coulson's evidence and the brief but enlightening conversations they had had with the councilman at the exchange and after the fight. As predicted the councilman hadn't informed the rest of the council about recapturing Barton; a quick check of the flight manifest had shown that there were no plans to bring Hawkeye back to the base either. The Director had immediately sent a team to collect the councilman and bring him back to SHIELD to face the rest of the council.

The team had been granted a temporary truce and freedom to return to New York while the council tried to piece everything together. They had reinstated the Avengers, and promised to review the case against Agent Barton. It had taken two days but the council had finally summoned Barton to the helicarrier to discuss his future with SHIELD.

Every second that ticked by on the clock was another knot that formed in his stomach. Fury had been called before the council to discuss recent events. The conclusion of the meeting would determine Barton's place at SHIELD, if he still had one. The council didn't so much care for the circumstances, so much as the fact that the Avengers went against the council because of Barton. The whispers so far had indicated that the council was willing to drop the death sentence, but they had many other equally unappealing punishments they could hand out in its place. There was also the fact that the charges did hold an ounce of truth that Clint still felt he needed to be punished for.

"You can go in now," announced Hill.

Clint got up with a shaky breath and marched into the meeting room.

* * *

"I feel like there should be cake," declared Stark as he surveyed the room.

Natasha and Steve walked into the living room which had just been decorated by the billionaire, Pepper and Thor. An insane amount of balloons and streamers hung from every possible point, party hats and noisemakers were staked next to the impressive spread of food and drink along the bar counter, and a stack of oversized presents with crisply folder wrapping paper and brightly colored ribbon dominated the couch.

"What _is_ all of this Stark?" asked Romanoff surveying the scene with incredulous eyes.

"Our little birdy is getting his licence to kill back." Tony wiped away a fake tear. Resuming in his normal voice, "it's a party! Thor blow the horn."

The Asgardian did as instructed. He almost looked comical with his party hat and a paper party horn unrolling as he blew into it.

"See, Thor can get behind it," pointed out Tony.

"This is a little excessive, don't you think?" added Rogers.

Tony raised his hands in the air and triumphantly declared, "Girls could jump out of the cake!"

Pepper grabbed Stark's arm to get him to look at her "Tony, no."

"No?"

"No."

"But we really should have a cake. Jarvis, call that bakery that Barton buys those pastries he likes and have them send over a cake."

The AI dutifully responded. "Sir, it takes time for a cake order to be processed, created and delivered."

"Well, tell them to send the biggest cake they have there right now. I don't care what it's for and tell them I'll pay triple."

"Very well sir."

"What's all this?" asked Bruce as he joined the gathered Avengers.

Natasha spoke up first. "Stark's lost his mind."

"I think it was gone before this happened."

"Yes," interjected Tony, "but the problem is still the absence of _cake!"_

All debate was halted as the subject of the party walked in. His sudden discomfort at being the center of attention was evident. Romanoff locked eyes with him and asked, "Well?"

Clint just nodded and she let out a sigh of relief. Sure they had exposed the councilman's plot, but the council could be tricky sometimes. Barton was cleared of any wrongdoings, but it was impossible to tell if they were going to have their noses out of joint over the whole escaping custody part. It wouldn't have surprised either assassin if they decided to levy punishment against Hawkeye for surviving his own execution. Orders were orders and a death sentence was a death sentence, the fact that he escaped to prove his innocence was a mere technically; his orders were to die that day and so die he should've – plain and simple.

Stark's cell phone beeped and he began tapping buttons. A few minutes later two men entered the living room carrying a large cake. They set it down on the table and promptly exited, leaving the Avengers to gather around.

Tony clapped his hands. "Excellent!"

Barton took in the inscription on the rather extravagant cake. "Happy twenty-fifth anniversary Mary and Bob?"

"I wanted to get you a cake that naked girls jumped out of. Pepper said no, so we sort of stole this cake instead," defended Tony. He turned to look at Pepper who was snuggled up to his arm "this is all your fault."

"It's fine," assured Clint, "And probably much better without anyone jumping out of it." It was the thought that counted Barton told himself; over extravagance was just Stark's way.

* * *

Bruce was puttering away in his lab when Clint came in and quietly sat down at the desk. The archer opened and closed his mouth a few times as he tried to find the courage to speak. After a few moments he finally found his voice and said, "Bruce, can I ask you a question?"

He was surprised that the archer has come down to the lab, and could tell by his constant need to fiddle with the zipper on his pants pocket that Barton wanted to be anywhere else. Banner nodded and in his soft voice said, "go ahead." He was curious what would be so important that it would drive his teammate into his domain at such a late hour. It wasn't that he didn't want Clint in the lab, or that he wasn't allowed but, like the shooting range, the team tended to respect each other's sanctuary places.

Hesitating a few seconds, Clint took a deep breath. "Could I... I mean ... is it possible to suffer a relapse or be re-infected with Keres?"

The question threw Bruce for a moment. Taking in the dark circles under Barton's eyes and his rough appearance, he surmised that the young man was losing a fair bit of much needed sleep over pondering the possibility. The doctor found the question a rather frightening prospect himself, and strove to put his friend at ease.

"They'd have to re-engineer the serum. What we gave you during your incident acts like a vaccine; you're immune to the serum now. Why; do you feel the sudden urge to kill us all?" He assured with a slight chuckle. Seeing the serious expression grip Clint even more, he sobered and asked "do you?"

"Nothing like that Doc," replied Clint as he ran a shaky hand through his hair.

"Then what is it?"

Clint stared intently at his shoes. "I don't know how to explain it. I feel like I'm here but not really here; like I'm not me, you know?" He locked eyes with Bruce. "Am I going crazy Doc?"

Bruce sighed. Of all the team members the archer could have chosen for a heart to heart it was Banner. Feeling incredibly inadequate to offer anyone advice on how to be normal and balanced, he selfishly wished the worn out man before him had picked anyone else to catalogue his troubles to. Knowing that Clint would probably never speak to anyone else and probably only came to him out of desperation, he couldn't turn Barton away no matter how uncomfortable the situation could get. They were a team, and this was what _he_ could do for Hawkeye.

"You went through a traumatic experience. You almost died Clint; I think it's going to take some time to work through something like that."

"I face death everyday and it doesn't leave me feeling like this."

"This time you were seconds away and you knew it. I can't imagine what it would be like to sit there and watch someone insert syringe after syringe, knowing that the last one was going to be the end. It will take time."

Barton shook his head. "I can't seem to get what Mason said out of my head." His voice was low and quiet. Evidence of those words haunting him flashed in his grey eyes.

"_He_ was the bad guy; they tend to say things to get under your skin." Making sure he had eye contact with Clint, Banner continued with as much reassurance as he could muster. "Mason was wrong; you won't be the end of us Clint. But if it makes you feel better, we can run some tests and check for any signs of Keres in your system."

The tension in Barton's shoulders began to melt away; he looked at Bruce hopefully. "It would help me sleep better at night."

Grabbing a syringe out of the supply drawer, Bruce rolled his chair next to Barton. "Roll up your sleeve."

Watching the doctor get to work Barton could tell that Bruce thought the tests were unnecessary but the fact that the man was willing to do it and wait all night with him for the results, that Banner had no doubt would be negative, was uplifting. It felt good to know someone had his back despite everything and wasn't going to run at the first sign of trouble. It was good to finally have friends to rely on.

The end.

* * *

Part 3 of 5.

**Thank-you so much to everyone who read this story.**

A big thanks to anyone who added an alert, favourite or review (**especially anyone those who reviewed many times**) it is greatly appreciated and means a lot. Thank you to the few that reviewed the last chapter.

**Huge thanks to Tracy137 for another terrific beta job!**

I originally planned this to be a 3 part series but I had an idea for another story and this seemed like the best place to cut this story line off to accommodate the new fourth story in the series. The fifth story in this series will tie up everything from the Keres story line. The fourth story is called _Between a Rock and a Hard Place_ and will be posted later today. It is complete and just undergoing final revisions. This story features Clint and Bruce. The fifth story (which is almost done being written) is _The Devil Looks After his Own _and it will feature Clint, Thor and the team. After that I have several other stories planned that fit in this missteps in team building universe.


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